Not Quite Bulletproof
by Shade Asylum
Summary: Rachel Berry is an up and coming starlet, facing the dangers of stalkers, crazed fans, and youth in general. Santana Lopez is the young bodyguard hired to protect her. Warning: Eventual M rating.
1. More Than A Babysitter

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way.**

I can't remember a time when I wasn't in the public eye. From a young age I'd been in the spotlight and I hardly minded. It started with small roles in television shows or commercials, but those weren't enough, those weren't nearly as fulfilling as the stage productions I'd always felt so much more drawn to. I remember how innocent it all was, just me doing what I loved, and while that hasn't changed, I had to come to realize how becoming a household name took away from that normal teenage experience.

I was about sixteen when it happened for the first time, I'd just gotten through arguing with my dads that I should be able to go out and enjoy New York on my own. Normally I'd listen to them but the more they denied my, at the time, seemingly reasonable request, the more frustrated I got until finally I just stormed out of the apartment. I'm sure they called security or something but I was out of there quickly. New York really was a beautiful city, and to this day I still appreciate it's beauty, but I suppose no sixteen year old should be walking the streets of any city alone at night. I didn't make it very far, before my nerves finally set in but I just brushed off the feeling of being watched.

Central park, while beautiful by day, had an ominous feel about it at night. I was strolling innocently through, enjoying the feeling of not being under a watchful eye all the time. A few people were obviously in the park, a couple against a tree, someone sleeping on a bench, and if I'd been more watchful, maybe I'd have noticed the man that came up behind me sooner. I was at about the center of the park when I noticed him, always a few feet behind me, but the fewer people there were around us, the closer he got, and I tried to pick up my pace but he began to as well.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" He mumbled cockily as he came up next to me.

"Uh," I resisted the urge to reply, slipping my hand into my pocket to feel for the small phone I'd set to silent earlier.

"Ain't it late for you to be out by yourself?" He was looking around too, monitoring the dwindling number of witnesses just as I was.

I focused on the single form resting under a pile of newspapers on a bench we were approaching, "I really should be going."

"Really now, well, let me help you back," he smirked maliciously and grabbed my arm.

"Let go, please," I demanded, tugging away but his grip tightened.

That horrible smirk was plastered on his face, the only feature catching any light in the darkened surroundings. I felt the bruise forming on my arm as the man tried to pull me off the sidewalk but I put up a fight. I'd always been small for my age but that was the only time it became a real problem. Somewhere over the sound of my heart racing as I panicked I heard my name being shouted. Before I was entirely sure what was happening, the man stumbled back and let go, and somebody else had tugged me into their arms. I struggled at first before soothing words were mumbled into my ear.

"Rachel, I've got you," my daddy repeated over me.

"Daddy?" I asked, tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

"Of course, Sweetie. I've got you okay?" He held me tightly.

I nodded against the tree trunks of arms that I'd grown so familiar with.

My daddy carried me back to the hotel that night and rather than pointing out the lesson I'd learned, we chose to leave the event unmentioned, outside of the few therapy visits I'd been ushered into. Being as rational as I usually tried to be, I accepted responsibility for leaving, and that the attack could have happened to anyone, and even that I'd been lucky my father had caught up with me, but I couldn't help but develop an aversion to situations where I'd be left alone. I knew my dads noticed, but again, we didn't voice it, just silently accepted it.

The second time we all realized it was much more troubling, but far less dramatic, happening at least a year after the first.. It was simple, I'd just left a show and when I went to sign some autographs, this time my dad was close by, but he couldn't have stopped it. I was signing a picture of me when something silver flashed before my eyes and over the commotion, I could hear the sound of metal sliding over metal. Once more arms surrounded me and while they weren't the trunks that comforted me the first time the feeling was there.

"Security!" The smaller man shouted behind me, as some girl gripped a lock of my hair. The situation was more stressful than it was dramatic, and I'd managed to walk away from it with just a new haircut rather than any therapy sessions.

That's when my fathers first brought up the idea of a personal bodyguard. I wasn't entirely opposed but a full time guard really seemed too much. But we began the process of interviewing, bodyguard after bodyguard. Men who seemed to have their fill of tattoos and scars filtered in and out of our home, each with their own list of qualifications. All of the interviews were really the same for the most part.

"So, what qualifications do you have, as a, um, bodyguard?" One of my fathers would ask.

I remember gun use, knife skills, boxing, stun-gun use, karate, EMT training, and even the ability to use nun chucks being listed.

"Do you work well with kids?" My fathers would follow.

These answers varied more widely from, "I have kids," to, "I hate them."

The deal breaker was always when they'd turn to me, "What do you think?"

"I don't believe you'd be right for us, but thank you," was the usual polite response.

Only one interview was really memorable. A tall, even by my short stature, dark haired girl swaggered in. She was one of the last few of the dwindling number of people left to be interviewed. Her slouch was off-putting, and her expression was bored, but something about her seemed to convey far more than she let on. Her interview was the only to really stray from the norm that had been set.

"Hello young lady," Daddy began, "Are you in the right place?"

"Interviews for a bodyguard, right?" She pulled a yellow sticky note from a pocket inside the worn leather jacket she wore.

"Yes, well," Dad took up, "You seem a bit young."

"I get that a lot," a small smirk tugged at her lips.

My fathers looked between each other unsure but decided to continue the interview, "Well, what qualifications do you have?"

"Four years of boxing, three of kick boxing, a self-defense class at some community center, and some weaponry skills," she shrugged. It was hardly the most impressive list but the way she said it, so nonchalantly, made it sound like anybody could have.

"Well," dad sounded nervous, "How did you, I mean, someone as young as you," he paused to think of a way to phrase it, "How did you get into this business. I mean how old are you really?"

"My uncle was a former bounty hunter, when I moved in with him he sort of got me into it too, but didn't like the idea of letting me put those skills to practice," that smirk didn't falter as she told the story, and I couldn't help but find it a bit charming. She avoided the last question.

"And your parents?" Daddy intoned.

She quirked an eyebrow, her smirk finally being diluted.

"Well," Dad looked to Daddy, as they did at the end of every other interview, "We'll get back to you."

"Wait," I chirped, looking up between them, before looking back to her, "Maybe she'd be good for the job, I mean," I tried to rationalize this while they all had their eyes on me but I had no good reasoning.

"I'm closer to her age than anyone else here," she came to my aid, for the first of many times, "I'd look more natural at her side than some hulking meat-head with nun chucks," she laughed, "and I'm not very noticeable to begin with."

"Are you okay with traveling?" I asked before my dads could argue.

She nodded, looking me over curiously now, as if she'd just noticed me.

"We'll have to get back to you, and your, uh, uncle," Daddy finally announced to the girl.

I stood up and held my hand out to her, smiling as she stood, "I'm Rachel Berry."

"Santana Lopez," she took my hand and shook it before looking to the two men at my side, they hesitantly repeated the gesture before she left.

"I don't know," Dad said as he watched the door.

"I think Rachel's already made up her mind," Daddy laughed as I blushed and returned to my seat.

I, personally, never met Santana's uncle, but as she'd agreed, he had no problem with her traveling. As far as I knew he'd been more approving of her choice to work with me than any job she could have gotten as a bounty hunter. She stopped by the apartment at first a few times, but she didn't really start working with me until Daddy and I were meant to be going to California. She was at the door at four o'clock that morning. Just a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a briefcase. Her hair was in a messy bun, she had on darkly tinted sunglasses, and that same worn leather jacket.

"It's good to see you're so prompt, Santana," Daddy held out his hand to the girl.

"Part of my job, right, Mr. Berry?" She asked wearily as she shook his hand.

He nodded and offered to take her bag but she just shook her head.

"Good morning," I offered through a yawn.

"If you say so," she smirked in amusement and offered to take my bags, well not so much offered as took the biggest and set her duffel bag on top.

I couldn't help but wonder what was in the briefcase she gripped so tightly but I brought my eyes up to the girls face, "Why do you have sunglasses on. It's still dark out?"

"They look cool," she made it sound like the most obvious answer.

"That's impractical," I mumbled, "Shouldn't one in your profession be more aware of appropriate practices?"

She quirked a well maintained eyebrow at me, "As someone who, most likely has no clue about my profession, should you be questioning my methods?"

I couldn't fight the glare as she smirked at me, "I see no purpose, but I suppose you're right."

"I am, trust me," she assured cockily.

I huffed at her attitude, I really couldn't imagine a whole plane ride with her now.

"Glad you two seem to be getting along so well," Daddy teased.

We loaded into the taxi quickly, Daddy making small talk with Santana, and I couldn't help but watch her. Her features were so controlled, a curiously arched eyebrow here, a light smirk her, an interested tilt of her head, but all you could read was the control, no real emotions beyond amusement could be seen. It was interesting, and I began to see one of the purposes of the glasses. Soon we were at the airport and Daddy was giving us our tickets. Santana once more took my bag, and she watched the entire process as her briefcase was checked.

"Are you two hungry?" Daddy asked as he stood up and stretched.

"I'm fine, thank you," Santana assured.

"A bit," I replied.

"Alright, I'll go see what I can find," he nodded, before walking off.

I looked to the girl in the seat across from me, her arms were crossed but her shoulders were relaxed, I couldn't tell what exactly she was looking at but it seemed to be forward, "How old are you, really?"

"Does it matter?" She asked, not looking to me.

"I'm curious," I looked her over for any defining hints, "What about your briefcase?"

"What about it?" She asked, tilting her head to look at me, really look at me, over the edge of her glasses.

"What do you keep in it?" I questioned.

"Just being curious again?" she smirked again.

I glared at her slightly, not enjoying the way she avoided the questions, "Do you plan on answering any of my questions?"

"Yes," she smiled innocently, "See, there ya go."

I felt my glare deepen, and a plastic wrapped sandwich landed in my lap.

"Peanut butter and Jelly," Daddy clarified, before holding one to Santana, "I figured you'd want it at some point."

She smiled, "Thank you."

I watched her curiously over my sandwich as I unwrapped and ate it, but she slipped it into a pocket on the side of her dark pants.

We boarded the plane and Santana took the isle seat while I sat in the middle. Daddy fell asleep almost immediately while Santana settled as well, her arms crossed over her chest and her glasses still blocking her eyes. I couldn't tell if she was asleep right away, but as we took off she maintained her position.

"It's rude to stare," she mumbled.

"I wasn't," I started but couldn't finish the argument, "I thought you were sleeping."

"I wasn't," she assured, "So anymore questions for me?"

"Are there any you'd actually be willing to answer?"

"I guess you'll just have to find out," she pushed the glasses up to rest on her head, turning to look at me.

"Where are you from?" I started.

"Around," she replied.

"Anywhere in particular?"

"Ohio, New York, and New Jersey," she ceded.

I pressed,"Cities?"

"Yeah, those," She agreed.

I felt myself wanting to glare at her once more, "Did the one's you lived in have names?"

"Yes," she smiled.

"How about pets?" I tried thinking of simpler more vague questions.

"A dog," she answered, "Lives with my uncle."

"Does it have a name?"

She nodded.

"Fine, well, what grade are you in?"

She had to think about it for a moment before she answered hesitantly, "I should have started my freshman year of college this year."

"Freshman?" I repeated, somewhat shocked and offended, "How could you possibly be a freshman. There's no way you could be older than me."

"Home school," she answered simply.

"That's no excuse, I'm home-schooled with a tutor and I'm just in the eleventh grade," I couldn't help but whine.

She laughed at that, "I'm not jetting across the country."

"That's still no excuse," I groaned, "I should be further along."

"You'll finish sooner or later," she assured.

"So, how did you get away with answering so few questions?"

"Your dads know what they need to know," she disclosed.

"Which is?"

"I'm going to protect you."

The rest of the plane ride was similar, me asking questions that she mostly dodged. She refused to disclose so much, it was hard to believe my dads had actually entrusted my safety to her, but I couldn't entirely blame them since it was partially, or I suppose, mostly my decision. She didn't make an effort to avoid my questions, instead she just ignored them and waited for the next. By the time the stewardess came to offer drinks and lunches I knew that she was home-schooled, took classes at the community center regularly, and she may or may not have been flirting with the stewardess to get me an extra pillow.

Daddy woke up to eat his sandwich and order a drink, drawing the obviously older woman's attention away from Santana. She hardly seemed pleased but as she came back with two drinks, I couldn't help but find myself entertained. The woman blocked the aisle for a few minutes before Santana finally dismissed the woman with a smile and a yawn. She replaced her glasses over her eyes and crossed her arms once more, leaving me unsure, once more, as to whether she was asleep. I really did sleep for the rest of the flight until I felt my pillow moving.

"Plane's landing soon," a voice came from next to me.

"What?" I groaned, bringing my hand to my eye.

"The plane's going to land, trays up and all that," she repeated, and I lifted my head to see I hadn't been laying on the pillows but the girl that had got them for me.

She rolled her shoulder slightly as I apologized, "Sorry."

"It's fine," she assured.

As we got off the plane Daddy lead us to a taxi cab where we once more loaded in. Santana kept her briefcase in hand this time as we drove to the hotel. Daddy got us checked in and I was surprised when he handed Santana one of two keys and kept the other, leaving me to look between them. He explained that we'd be sharing a room so we'd only need one key. He made his way to his own room, claiming he was tired, but warned us to stay nearby the hotel and remember that I'd have a busy day tomorrow.

"Let's go to the room first and then we can do whatever you want," she planned, once more taking my suitcase.

"Alright," I followed her to the room, where we settled in. It was a nice suite with a small living area and past that a large room with two beds.

She let me pick the bed nearest the window before laying her bags by the bed. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed, pulling the briefcase onto her lap and unclasping it.

"What do you keep in there?" I asked curiously, looking over from my suitcase.

She quirked her eyebrow as she usually did when she wouldn't answer.

"Really, if we're going to do this you should at least give me some sort of information. I don't know anything about you, the least you could do is disclose what you're carrying so my father and I aren't surprised to find you arrested for carrying some illegal substance or tool. For all we know you could be some sort of criminal, and you carry that thing like your life depends on it."

She smirked at that, "Mine doesn't," she moved something in the case, "But yours could." She ceded and waved me over, turning the case for me to see.

I moved to the side of her bed and my eyes widened slightly. Inside the briefcase was a series of neatly organized weapons. A stun gun, some knives, two cans of pepper spray, what looked like a flashlight, a case of some sort of pellets, and a gun. I couldn't help but focus more on the gun than anything else.

"It's not real," she mentioned, catching me staring at the weapon, "It's a pellet gun. Just for distraction."

"And you know how to use all of this?" I asked, drawing my eyes away from the case to look at her.

She nodded, moving her hand indecisively over everything before taking a can of pepper spray and tossing it towards me.

I caught it nervously, avoiding the top, "What's this for?"

"In case I'm not around," she assured, "Fair warning though," she stood up and took my hand with the can and pointed to the front, "If you spray yourself, I will laugh."

"Shouldn't you teach me how to use it then?" I asked nervously.

"Point it forward and spray," she shrugged, taking what looked like two pocket knives and slipping them into pockets inside her jacket. She re-clasped the briefcase before looking up to me.

"What are those for?" I asked curiously.

"Just in case," she replied.

"In case what?"

"In case I need them," she started dodging again.

"For what?"

She didn't bother answering this time.

"Fine," I opened a bag before pulling out a swimsuit, "Can we go down to the pool?"

"You're in charge," she shrugged and went to the other room.

I looked through the door curiously before closing it and changing.

I lead her down to the pool after calling Daddy and letting him know where we'd be. Santana sat silently on a lounge chair by the pool while I pulled off my clothes and dove in. I did a few laps before going back to the edge where Santana was , I assumed, watching me from.

"Why don't you get in?" I questioned.

"I'm working."

I rolled my eyes, "You're just watching me."

"What was it you think I'm supposed to do?" She asked.

"More than just babysit me?" I suggested, pulling myself out of the pool.

"Really now?" She looked me over as I sat on the edge of her chair.

"Yes," I looked around quickly, "Come sit by the hot tub with me."

She quirked an eyebrow, "Why?"

"So you can make sure I don't boil," I supplied, taking her hand and tugging her with me.

She followed reluctantly and sat on the edge with her legs crossed while I slipped in.

"So, how do you learn to use so many weapons?" I asked, relaxing in the heated water.

"YouTube."

I stared at her in shock.

"It's not that hard," she looked around, making sure no one was around before pulling out her pocket knives. She showed two tools, they both looked like bent nails with slight differences. "These are for lock picking, aside from the obvious, knife, file and all the rest."

"What situation could possibly require you be able to pick a lock?"

She smirked cockily, putting the tools away, "You'd be surprised."

"Well," I rolled my eyes, "What other lessons have you taken at community centers?"

"Few," she sat thoughtfully, "Boxing, kick-boxing, self-defense, cooking, and dance?"

"Cooking and dancing," I laughed, before teasing, "Well aren't you Miss Holly Home-maker?"

"You laugh now, but you never know when those skills come in handy," she scowled.

I nodded, trying to speak past my laughter, "I'm sure you'll make a wonderful dancing chef one day."

She continued scowling.

"What kind of dance?" I asked once my laughter subsided.

"Oh, now you're interested," she rolled her eyes.

"Very," I nodded, "I mean, what kind of dancing do bounty-hunters in training partake in?"

She glared venomously at me, and I knew it was one more question I wouldn't be receiving an answer to.

"What can you cook, then?"

Her glare softened before she replied, "Mostly breakfast."

"Like what?" I asked curiously.

"Eggs, bacon, the usual," she supplied before questioning my look of disgust, "What?"

"That's horrible," I declared.

"And what would you suppose I eat for breakfast?"

"Waffles."

"What are you vegan or something?" She questioned.

Her face fell as I nodded.

"Oh god," she groaned.

"What?" I demanded.

"You aren't going to get all preachy, are you?"

I gaped, "No, I'm not going to get preachy about your choice to mutilate small defenseless animals."

She gave me a pointed look.

"I can't force you to eat anything you don't want," I assured.

"Great, because I'm thinking steak," announced.

I glared at her as she stood up and stretched, holding her hand out to me.

I took it and she pulled me out of the hot tub.

I pulled my clothes back on and we made our way back up to the room. It was freezing in the elevator, and as much as I hated it, Santana managed to get me to wear the jacket. She mentioned not wanting to see me shaking like a little chihuahua. I tried focusing more on the warmth than the fact that I was wearing cowhide but her laughter kept reminding me. She couldn't hold it back as we made our way up stairs and once we were in the room I threw the coat onto her bed and grabbed some clothes before rushing into the bathroom.

Half an hour later I emerged clad in shorts and a t-shirt. Santana was sitting on the couch, the television was on but the volume was too low to make anything out. In her hands was what looked like a nutcracker. I moved to sit next to her and saw her quickly flip one handle over her fingers quickly before the tool landed completely back in her hands and I could see a smaller blade at the top.

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

"Butterfly knife," she mumbled, flipping the tool again until it was closed this time she did a sequence of flips and twists until the knife was upside down in her hand.

I watched carefully, trying to follow the movements but the knife moved to quickly in her hand, "Will you show me how to do that?"

She snorted, "I'm pretty sure being your bodyguard doesn't consist of letting you lop off fingers."

"Well, you can do it," I held out my hand for the knife.

"It's almost like you're suggesting that since I can do it, it must be easy," she smirked slightly.

"Well, it can't be too hard. It's essentially a toy," I pointed out.  
>She laughed, "As much as I'd love to just hand this over and let you test that theory out, I'll hold off." She handed me the remote and closed the blade before slipping it into her pocket, "Why don't you just pick something to watch."<p>

"Will you teach me something? I'm not a child," I argued.

She pointed to the remote in my hand, "That is a remote control. It changes the channels on that," she pointed to the television, "And if you'd kindly press a button, any button, I'm sure you'll eventually land on something interesting."

I couldn't help but gape at her, "I know how to work a remote."

"Then I hope you wouldn't mind putting those skills to use," she requested.

We settled on the couch watching some movie. She mostly just played with her knife while I watched. When it was over she suggested we should probably eat. She dug around the drawers until she found the room service menu and handed it to me. She got a burger while I ordered a salad. When it finally came she wouldn't let me answer the door. After tipping the deliver boy she handed over my "Rabbit food," and put her burger in the fridge.

"Why don't you eat?" I asked over a forkful of salad.

"I eat," she shrugged.

"What about your sandwich earlier? You didn't eat that, you just stuck it in your pocket," I reminded.

"And ate it on the plane," she added.

"When?" I asked surprised.

"After you watched me flirting with the stewardess and before you drooled on my shoulder."

I blushed slightly at that, "I wasn't..." I trailed off.

"It's fine, really, I've heard the sight of me working the Lopez charm is a magical one," she grinned cockily, "But I worked hard to get you that extra pillow."

I rolled my eyes, "You convinced that poor woman that you actually intended to call her, and I'm pretty sure you threw her number away."

"You know, it'd be really awkward if she was working the flight back to New York," she mumbled.

"That would be terrible," I agreed.

"She might not be too nice about bringing us drinks," she pointed out.

I scrunched my face at that.

She pulled out her cell phone quickly, "You have an interview in the morning and then a meeting or something in the afternoon."

"When did you become my assistant?" I questioned.

"Trust me, I'm not in any hurry to get your coffee or keep any memos, but I'm supposed to get you there safely and on time," she explained.

"So, you're actually taking this seriously," I asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" She questioned.

I shrugged, "You're like ridiculously young, smart, and you look like you should be a cheerleader or a model."

I couldn't help but hate the smirk that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, "I was," at my curious look she clarified, "When I was little I was a cheerleader, but then I moved."

"Why'd you move?"

She gave me her usual look.

"Well, why didn't you keep cheering?" I tried.

She shrugged, her smirk melting away, "Just lost interest in it. Like I said, boxing and kick-boxing became my thing."

I ventured further with my next question, "Will you show me something some time?"

"I think you misunderstood my job," she announced, "I'm supposed to keep you safe, not let you cut off your fingers, not show you how to swing your fists, just keep you safe."

"You gave me pepper spray, why can't you just show me a few things?"

She looked me over in thought for a moment before holding out her hand, "Give me your cell phone."

I placed the phone in her hand.

She typed her number in and showed it to me, "If you ever need me and, for whatever reason, I'm not around just call me and I'll be there. Until then, I'll think about teaching you something."

"Like what?" I asked, unable to hide the slight excitement.

"How to be on time for appointments," she said as she stood up and stretched, walking past me to the room.

"Something real," I argued, following her.

"Trust me, being on time is real, so is a good night's sleep," she dug some clothes out of her duffel bag before going into the bathroom.

I just huffed, and went to turn off the television and check the locks on the door. I got in my bed, it might have been a bit annoying but Santana was right, it was late and tomorrow would be busy. Eventually the shower shut off and I watched the door as the girl stepped out. She was dressed in a black tank top and matching boy shorts and I couldn't help but blush as I looked her over.

"I'm sure we've discussed this staring problem of yours before," she pointed out, running her fingers through long black hair as it hung loosely like it had been the day we met.

"I'm not, you were just taking for ever and," I worried my lip slightly, "I wanted to say goodnight."

"Go ahead then," she was amused as she held her hand to the light.

"Goodnight, Santana," I mumbled.

"Night, Rachel," she replied, turning off the light and slipping into her own bed.

**A/N: So, I know I kind of have a lot of stories going on at once but I kinda feel like once I get a good idea I can't let it go. Hopefully you guys like this, and I will definitely be catching up with PDD and Control, I'm not as certain about SHV and SDS but I'll try. Um, thanks to everyone who reviews and comments in any of my stories, I really do appreciate them. Criticism can only improve my writing.**


	2. Just Don't Hurt Yourself

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

"Wake up," a voice came from over me.

"Wha- No," I groaned into my pillow.

"You have to get up, Rachel, right now if you want breakfast," she urged.

I looked up to see her standing over me, her coat on over her tank top and her hair was already up.

"I checked," she supplied, "The restaurant has vegan options."

"Fine," I sighed, pushing myself up slowly.

"Good girl," Santana offered, "Now hurry up and get dressed."

"I'm regretting this more and more," I announced, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing my eyes.

She grinned and leaned against the dresser, "I'm sure, but you'll learn to love me eventually."

}{

I got dressed and let Santana lead me downstairs. When we got to the restaurant she waved at someone and I couldn't help but wonder who she'd know in California but as we approached the table I smiled. Daddy was waiting, his meal already before him. We sat across from him and ordered our food, while the waitress brought our sodas, Daddy decided to start some small talk.

"So, girls, how was your night?" The man asked grinning.

I smiled, "Well, we went to the pool and sat around for a while, then we watched a movie before ordering room service and went to bed."

"That's good," he smiled at me before looking to Santana, "And how are you taking this? I mean, this is pretty big, just up and leaving your uncle for work."

"It's to be expected with my interests, but really it's fine, and Rachel doesn't seem to be going out of her way to put herself in danger," she assured.

"Well, you have her up and ready early enough for breakfast, you might be some kind of good influence," he laughed.

"I can get up fine on my own," I commented, accepting my plate from the waitress.

"Early enough for breakfast before an interview?" He questioned.

Santana couldn't help but smirk.

"Daddy, while we're talking about the interview," I started off trying hard not to sound too invested, "I was wondering if Santana could take me to the interview?"

I felt Santana's eyes on me incredulously.

"Well, I don't know if that would be a good-" I cut off his uncertainty.

"It'd be a good chance for us to get to know each other and I'm certain we could make it their and back on our own."

"Rachel, I'm still not sure," he looked between us, "Santana, do you think you'd be alright with that? I mean, it's just there and back and I could give you money for a cab and lunch."

She looked up from me and nodded, "Yeah, if it's what Rachel wants."

He looked between us nervously before nodding, "Fine, but don't tell your dad, not yet."

I beamed over my waffles, I felt Santana's curious gaze on me as we all finished eating.

Daddy gave her some cash and wrote down the address of the cafe I was supposed to be meeting the interviewer and the hotel so we could get back. He made us promise to check in every so often, before heading up to his own room, mumbling about a free day.

}{

"What made you think that me taking you to this damn thing was a good idea?" Santana asked as she ushered me into the cab.

"Well, we'll be spending plenty of time together as is, and we're both old enough, I assume, that we can get to a simple interview on our own. Besides, what could possibly go wrong under your watchful eye?"

"Gee, there's not a whole list of things to answer that," she rolled her eyes before giving the driver the address.

The ride went pretty quickly. When we got to the cafe she helped me out and paid the driver. I lead her inside and let Santana order us some coffee. When it was ready a blonde woman in a corner booth caught my attention. I tugged Santana over and we sat down, introducing ourselves. The woman, Wendy, and her photographer, Charlie, were there to talk and take some pictures with me, but they seemed pretty curious about Santana, who tried her best to stay out of the picture.

"So, since the end of your latest Broadway production, what have you been up to?" Wendy asked over her coffee and notepad.

"Well, I've mostly been focused on schoolwork but I've really wanted to get back to work," I smiled and sipped my coffee.

"And that's what you're doing here?" She asked as she began furiously scribbling on the notepad.

"Yeah, I have a few meetings and auditions while I'm out here."

"And what about your friend here?" she asked looking over to Santana.

Santana crossed her arms, looking out the window, "Just pretend I'm not here."

"She camera shy or something?" Wendy asked.

"I suppose so," I looked her over curiously.

"So, you like her assistant or something?" Wendy pushed.

Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm just here to keep her out of trouble."

"So, she's like your babysitter?" She asked me now.

"In a sense she serves the same purpose," I replied, glaring as the other girl laughed.

"Well, that's interesting," she scribbled.

We settled back into the interview for a while. Wendy got some questions about what I was hoping to do in California, and any plans for further education, and any flings that might be occurring. I admitted to hoping to find work in a movie while here, would continue to get my diploma and maybe think about college, and that there wasn't anybody particular at the moment. Wendy's attention really did seem to keep going back to Santana, who hardly seemed happy about it as she clutched her coat tighter around her. Eventually Wendy and Charlie lead us outside and to a small park. Charlie took over and had me pose a few times. Santana watched as I settled under a tree for a few shots and then as I sat on the edge of a fountain. Wendy practically dragged Santana into a picture, but she kept walking out, growing more and more irritated. I couldn't figure out why Wendy was so interested in her but finally, the woman gave up, letting her go broad on a nearby bench before having Charlie finish the pictures.

Santana was more than excited when we finally left. Back in the cab she huddled against the door, her sunglasses in place as we rode to the hotel.

"Hello Mr. Berry," Santana greeted, her voice taking on a particularly professional tone.

I watched her on the phone as we got out of the cab.

"Yes, it went very well, we're at the hotel now, would you like to speak to Rachel?" She offered.

She didn't hand over the phone as she lead me further into the hotel.

"At the pool? We'll stop by," she assured before hanging up.

"Daddy?" I asked curiously.

She nodded and slipped her hands into her pockets, "He's at the pool. You okay to stop by and say hi? We have a couple hours before we have to be at the meeting," she seemed finished but quickly turned back to me to add, almost sternly, "And I'm pretty sure your dad has to be there."

"While watching you broad and mope at the prospect of having your picture taken was entertaining, I assume I can't expect that sort of show during every outing, but Daddy would probably would need to be present for the upcoming meeting. And ff course I wouldn't mind going to the pool."

"I'm just going to nod my head and pretend I heard anything besides, "Yes, Santana, we can go to the pool."

I couldn't help but gape at her.

"That works too," she announced, leading me to the elevator.

We headed to the pool quickly and I found Daddy sitting on a lounge chair with his laptop across his lap.

"Hey, baby, how was the interview?" He smiled as I sat on the edge of his chair.

"It was fine, you know, how are you doing, who are you seeing," I shrugged.

He nodded at me before looking up to Santana, "She didn't give you any trouble did she?"

"No, sir," she shook her head smiling.

"That's good," he smiled back before looking down to his laptop, "I just got off the phone with dad, he said to say he loves you."

"I'll call him in the room," I assured, "What are you doing?"

"Writing an article," he explained, "I figure I should get some sort of work done while we're here."

"That's good."

"What about you? Didn't you bring your laptop with you?" He questioned, looking up at me again.

I nodded solemnly, "Yes."

"Maybe you could work on something until the meeting?" He offered.

I couldn't help but scowl at Santana's smirk, "I suppose that would be a good idea."

"Alright," he smiled between us once more, "I'll see you two in a few."

"Yes, sir," Santana waved.

I nodded, "See you, Daddy."

"Don't forget to call dad," he reminded.

"I won't." 

}{ 

I was in the middle of an English assignment on my laptop when Santana, seemingly, got bored with the television and came to read the assignment over my shoulder. At first I just ignored her, but it quickly grew annoying. She hummed while she read the questions and I wasn't sure if it was on purpose. Whenever I tried to answer a question she'd always cough as I selected an answer, making me doubt my choice and reread it, usually choose again. Finally, I turned to glare at her while she looked me over curiously.

"Do you have a problem?" She asked.

"May, I do my work in peace?" I questioned.

She nodded, "I was just looking it over."

"I don't need you looking over my work," I assured, "Besides, don't you have anything better to do?"

"Sure, let me put on my dancing shoes and I'll go out to find a nice club," she rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to me and continuing to look over my work.

I glared at her as she tugged the computer onto her own lap, quickly correcting every question I'd already answered and starting on the one's I'd had yet to begin, "Hey, that's innapro- How did you know that those were wrong? I double checked all of those."

She snorted, "Should've triple checked."

"Can I have my computer back now?" I questioned, watching her answer the questions.

"You can when I'm finished," she mumbled, her eyebrows knit together as she finished the assignment faster than I could have hoped to.

My jaw dropped as I saw the hundred percent on the assignment report, "How did you do that?"

"It was easy," she clicked on the next assignment, "I'm bored. Are you taking any challenging classes?"

"How can you possibly bored, that was advanced placement English? My highest level class!" I felt myself getting upset with her.

"That's what they're passing off as AP?" She rolled her eyes and started the next assignment.

I quickly got used to Santana's current entertainment as I leaned against her shoulder, giving my input about the assignments every so often. She eventually stopped dominating the questions and settled for explaining why my answers were wrong. It was still particularly annoying but I had to admit it was very helpful. I finished more assignments than I thought I'd be able to in a day and ceded in letting her do a couple on her own. It was impressive, and definitely demonstrated how she'd managed to graduate so early, but it stirred my curiosity.

"You said you were a freshman in college right?" I asked as she searched through my class lists.

"I said I should have started this year," she corrected, selecting calculus.

"Why didn't you?" I was surprised, obviously she could handle the work.

She shrugged, searching the tool cache for a calculator, "I wanted to start working."

"But you, obviously, could have handled the work, and gotten a much better job," I pointed out.

"Obviously," she agreed, solving the problems with ease.

I rolled my eyes, "So being a bodyguard is really what you want to do?"

She nodded and kept working.

"And your uncle is fine with that?"

"Yep," she was stuck on one question, "Well, he's happier than me chasing criminals around the country."

"What got you into that," I wondered aloud, "Bounty hunting, I mean."

She was silent for a moment and right when I thought she wouldn't be answering she replied, "My uncle was a bounty hunter."

"You messed up there," I pointed to a series of calculations, "But why did you want to do it."

"Thanks," she grumbled, but didn't answer this time.

I watched her curiously while she finished the calculus, actually needing me to point out some missed steps this time.

"You plan on getting ready or is that good for your meeting?" She finally asked, closing the program.

"This is fine," I took out my phone and stood up stretching, "I'll call Daddy and tell him we'll meet him downstairs."

She nodded and waited.

"Hey, Daddy," I chirped into the phone, "I just wanted to let you know that Santana and I will meet you down in the lobby."

"Alright Sweetie, did you work on your schoolwork?" He questioned.

I looked to the, still, bored looking girl by the door, "Yeah, actually, Santana helped me."

"Oh? That's good, but don't bother her to much sweetie, that's really not her responsibility. Be sure to thank her."

"I will Daddy," I assured before hanging up.

"You ready?" She asked, pulling her sunglasses on.

"Yes," I nodded, "Thank you, for helping me, rather, for helping me on the work you didn't take the liberty of doing on your own."

"Trust me, that was no problem," she waved me off before holding the door for me.

Downstairs, Daddy was waiting on us. He had what looked more formal than either of our outfits, but it was to be expected. We got into the taxi quickly and headed to the office, my agent, Reed, greeting us at the door. He gave Santana a curious look but hardly acknowledged her after that and she couldn't have cared less. Some producers and the director and a couple of actors were in the meeting room when we got there. I'd already seen the script and Daddy had seen the contract, but I still wanted to meet before I signed anything. I was totally convinced but I had Reed call for a small break before I signed.

"Everything to your liking kid?" Reed asked, his eagerness to please and get me to sign obvious.

"Well, I love the script and I enjoyed meeting everyone, but," I turned to Santana, "I can't help but hope for your opinion since I will, in a sense, be uprooting you."

"I'm down," she shrugged, "I know what I signed up for," she hardly seemed bothered, "Will I have to find my own place, though?"

"Of course not," Daddy assured, "Right?" He asked, looking to Reed.

"An apartment's already being provided for Rachel, we'll just bump it up to a three room," He grinned pleased.

"You're sure you're alright with this?" Daddy asked the Latina.

"Of course, my job is wherever Rachel is," she answered professionally.

"Alright then," Daddy nodded, "We can sign whenever Rachel's ready."

I nodded, and we all headed back to the meeting room.

I signed the contract along with Daddy and Reed offered us all dinner. Afterward we headed back to the hotel where Daddy wished us a goodnight. I went to the room to call Dad while Santana showered. He asked about the interview and meeting, of course, but he began asking about Santana. He sounded worried about me, but I assured him that she was fine. He was curious if I'd gotten her to answer anymore questions than he and Daddy could and I admitted to a few, but not much. He confessed some worries about trusting me with her but I did my best to convince him that she was hardly much danger to me. Eventually he congratulated me on the new role and wished me a good night.

"So, we movin' out here now?" Santana asked as she came into the living room, drying her hair with a small towel. She was clad in the same outfit as last night in gray. I forced myself to look away this time.

"Yes," I nodded, looking to the television, "You, Daddy, and I."

"What about Hiram?" She asked.

I shook my head, "He has work in New York."

"He can't bring it like Leroy?"

"Nope," I shrugged, used to the set up, but then a thought occurred to me, "Will your uncle mind you moving?"

She shrugged and then shook her head, "Not really. He's fine with the job, and I guess with you he knows where I am."

I looked her over curiously, "What do you mean where you are?"

She chewed her cheek curiously, deciding whether or not to keep going on, "He just worries I'm going to take off and do the whole bounty hunter thing on my own."  
>"Would you?" I wondered.<p>

"No," she shrugged, "I'm your bodyguard, you aren't going to get rid of me that easily."

"So, you're alright with moving to California?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Besides, what am I going to do? Leave you to some meat head with-"

"What is your problem with nun chucks?" I couldn't help but ask? I could understand her reasons for being against an overly buff male guard, but I thought she'd be interested in different weaponry.

She scoffed, "Nun chucks are just for showing off."

"While butterfly knives are very practical." I rolled my eyes.

"Absolutely," She nodded.

"So, will you show me how to use them?" I pressed.

"No."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Because you don't need to lose fingers," she assured, "But if it'll shut you up, come here."

I followed as she stood up and lead me to the bedroom, "What are you going to show me?"

"I can't help but feel that I'm going to regret this," she groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Face me and do exactly as I do."

I nodded and copied her as she settled into a position, her right side inclined toward me with her left leg back, both hands balled into fists near her face.

"You're going to get hurt like that," she mumbled, coming behind me and correcting what seemed like minute details. She brought my hands closer to my face, pulled my thumb out from my fists, urged my left foot forward and turned it on an angle while turning my right out completely.

"I'm right-handed, shouldn't that side be forward?" I questioned, trying to remember this stance, while looking down at my feet.

"No, stay like that," she slid her hand over my shoulder to grasp my chin and urge me to look up to where she was standing, "Keep your eyes on me, but your chin between your fist and your shoulder."

She moved to stand back in front of me, not bothering to take her stance, "What next?"

"Oh," she shrugged, "I didn't actually plan on teaching you to throw a punch, I just assumed anybody seeing you in that position would be laughing to hard to actually cause you any harm."

"What," I dropped my arms, "You have to teach me something!" I would have gladly continued whining but as her fist stopped just short of brushing my nose I couldn't help but gape at her knuckles wide eyed.

Her arm shook slightly in from of my face before she finally dropped it to reveal why. "D-did I forget t-to tell you n-never to d-drop your hands?" She choked out the question between her laughter.

"What? Tha- you can't do that!" I argued, taking a step back to watch her bend over in laughter.

"I just did, now come here if you want me to keep teaching you," she finally sobered and waved me over, still grinning.

I walked over, glaring at her as she mirrored me, I'd never noticed before but I wondered if that meant she was left-handed.

"Follow me, alright?" She asked.

I nodded and she started a series jutting out her right hand, "Jab," she threw her left hand forward, turning at her hip, "Cross," she finished by bringing her right arm in front of her face, "Hook."

I tried to follow but I got lost somewhere.

She just laughed and came behind me, wrapping her arms over mine and gripping my wrists and showing me the motions.

"Got it?" She asked, moving in front of me again.

I nodded and tried them again slowly, "Yeah."

"Try it faster," she encouraged, watching me.

I did, and almost hit my own hands.

"Okay, remembering why this was a bad idea," she laughed and gripped my hands again, "Don't hoop your arms as much, just go straight ahead."

I tried to take her advice and it worked, but I almost hit her although she jumped back quickly.

"I got the feeling you don't like me," she teased, and then a thoughtful look crossed her face, "Actually try that again."

"What?" I lowered my hands and she gave me a pointed look, I brought them back up, "What do you mean?"

"Hit me," she suggested, dropping her hands to her sides, "Not in the face. That wouldn't be pleasant for either of us."

"But I don't want to hurt you," I suggested, and looking back, I have to admit that her laughter was warranted.

After about ten straight minutes of laughter she finally calmed enough to straighten herself out, "Right here," she pointed to her stomach, "As hard as you can, remember to keep your thumb out, straighten your hand, and don't hoop your arms."

"But-"

She cut me off, "You won't hurt me, I promise, just breath."

I held up my hands hesitantly and worried my lip slightly before going for it. I connected with her stomach and was mildly surprised by the wall I was met with. She hardly flinched as I managed all three motions without hitting myself.

"Maybe I should actually take you to a gym," she offered, brushing off her stomach as if she'd gotten something on her shirt.

"You actually will?" I couldn't help my excitement.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Shit, I shouldn't have said that."

"Is that a yes?"

"Maybe," she waved me off, "Just don't hurt yourself."  
>"Can you at least show me what it's supposed to look like?" I asked curiously.<p>

"What?"

"The jab-thing?" I reminded.

"Why?" She looked me over.

"So I can see what it's supposed to look like," I offered.

She scoffed, "It's not like you'll actually be using this."

"Well, it's important that I maintain a healthy form and stay in shape, and while my typical exercise regime doesn't typically include actual violence, you seem to keep up your form well enough and it might be in both our interest if we found some sort of common ground as far as exercise, especially since we'll be spending so much time together. Don't you agree?"

"I'll show you if it'll convince you not to repeat that."

I glared but nodded.

"Back up," she urged me back and took her stance quickly. I was surprised as she swiped her fists through the air, bobbing up and down as she punched, and sliding from side to side. She kept making some hissing noise with each

"What was that? Why couldn't you show me any of that?" I questioned, trying to remember all the motions.

She shrugged, still shifting slightly on her feet, "Hopefully, you won't need any of that."

"But it might be best if you showed me anyway?" I encouraged.

"Or you could just, oh, I don't know, let me protect you," she pointed out.

I couldn't help the whine in my voice, "But what if I need to handle something?"

"Luckily for you, I'm paid to handle things," she assured, patting my shoulder, as she passed me.

"At least tell me what that hissing thing was," I wondered, following her back to the living area.

"Hissi- Oh, a breathing thing," she pushed the coffee table against the wall.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, sitting on the couch.

She dropped down onto her hands and toes, "Working out."

"This late?" I wondered, watching as she did some sort of push up variant, jumping up slightly at the end.

"You've got me in the mood," she mumbled.

I couldn't help but blush at her words, and her smirk wasn't lost on me as she counted.

"I'd rather go for a jog, but I doubt you'd be up for that now," she added.

"Shouldn't you be encouraging me to get a good night's rest?"

She paused in her counting to answer, "All we have to worry about tomorrow is a flight in the afternoon, wouldn't you rather sleep late?"

"We could see if the hotel has a gym," I offered, "Or you could swim with me. That would be a good work out as well."

"I can't watch you in the pool," she supplied.

"Then take a day off and swim with me," I requested, "I'm sure Daddy wouldn't mind keeping an eye on me. How much danger could I possibly be in in a hotel?"

"I'm supposed to watch you, not play with you," she was panting slightly now.

"It's not playing, we both need to work out, and it's the perfect opportunity for the both of us," I tried to argue.

She just shook her head and continued.

I watched her workout a bit longer, stretching more before doing some lunges, squats, and sit ups. I was worn out well before she was and she eventually had to get up and drag me to the room. I would have normally tried to argue but it was well past midnight. She urged me into the bed and went back to the living room to straighten up before going to her own bed. She turned off the light and I couldn't help but listen to her deep breaths until they finally evened out and compare them to the more deliberate bursts of breath I'd heard earlier.

}{

"Please?" I begged from the edge of my bed.

"No," Santana repeated for the umpteenth time as she packed her bag.

"San," I pleaded.

She snorted, "Nicknames won't help."

"Why not?" I whined, standing up and tugging her arm towards the door.

"Because we have to be at the airport in three hours Rachel, and I'm not supposed to be your best girlfriend I'm your bodyguard."

I got a bit upset at that, "I'm not asking you to be my friend Santana, I'm asking you to get in the damn pool."

"I wasn't aware you were even capable of cursing," she commented, pulling her arm from me.

"Don't change the subject," I reprimanded, "Can you even swim?"

It was her turn to get upset, "Of course I can swim."

"Well, if you could swim I doubt you'd be putting up such a struggle," I found my way to convince her, "I mean, it's fine if you can't, really it is."

"I can swim, I assure you," she started shoving things into her bag more aggressively.

"You can tell me if you can't Santana, I mean, I don't know how good of a bodyguard you could be if I were to drown," I shrugged, walking to the living area.

I heard the bathroom door shut and knew I'd won.

Daddy was more than adamant in Santana relaxing before the flight. He was even willing to sit by the pool with his laptop while we swam. I had to wrestle the leather coat from Santana, exposing her tank top and cloth shorts as she rested it near Daddy's lounge chair. She groaned and grumbled as I forced her towards the pool and into the deep end. She wasn't lying when she said she could swim, she did laps around me for a while and finally talked me into going to the hot tub. I couldn't help but try not to stare at her again, but she didn't seem to notice, still somewhat upset about the whole situation.

Finally, she got Daddy and I both ready to checkout. We were in a cab once more, all packed up. Santana had packed my pepper spray back in her briefcase and had emptied her coat pockets once more. We boarded the plane and were on our way back to New York. Luckily, the woman whose number Santana had thrown away wasn't on this flight, but it was entertaining to watch her hit on a couple more on this flight. I was most surprised to see her hitting on a male stewardess this time, it was interesting to say the least, and I would have sworn I smelled alcohol in the drink he brought her but decided not to question it. I slipped in and out of sleep on the flight, trying to stay on my pillow this time.

I don't know exactly what I expected when we got home, but Santana looked awkwardly at the exchange between me and my dads when we got home. Her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, she looked like a movie runaway, but when Daddy invited her to dinner she excused herself, saying she should probably get back to her uncle's, and she'd be back in two days for another interview and reminding me of her promise to show up if I called. I wasn't exactly thrilled to see her go, but I wasn't sure how much more I could do. So I settled for catching up with my Dad.

"So, how did the meeting go?" He asked, pushing up his glasses to look at me inquisitively.

"Well, it was nice, I got to meet the director, producer, and a couple of actors."

"So, you signed?" He looked between me and Daddy.

"Mhum," Daddy offered.

"Reed even said he'd talk to them about getting a three room apartment so Santana would be able to stay with us," I grinned, I don't know how quickly I started to care whether she was around.

"That's, um, interesting," he mumbled and then looked to Daddy, "Leroy, do you really thing it'd be such a good idea to uproot such a young girl for this job? I mean, a trip to California is one thing, but how long is that movie contract? One, two years?"

"Two," he supplied, "We allow Rachel to do things like that? Santana's obviously old enough to make her own choices and when we spoke to her uncle he was fine, and I've seen the girls together, they get along well enough, and really, Santana can keep a better eye on her than anybody else we'd interviewed."

"Yes, but she's still a child, shouldn't she be in school or something?" He argued.

"She's graduated," I noted, "She's been helping me with my schoolwork."

"She should be in college then," Dad went on.

"She'd rather watch out for Rachel," Daddy shook his head, "She chooses not to continue her education, at least she's doing something productive and working."

"What do we even know about her?"

"We know she's going to protect Rachel, and she's probably more capable than either of us," Daddy was glaring now. It was easy to see I'd gotten a good mix of my stubbornness from them.

Dad rubbed his temple before scowling over the table at Daddy, "Rachel, Sweetie, will you please go to your room?"

I really hadn't expected such an argument to spawn from this, but I did as was suggested and went to my room. I started unpacking and then went to my bed, phone in hand. I stared at the small contraption for awhile, wondering what Santana's response would be to a quick text message, but decided against the message. Instead I settled for going to bed, waiting until my next interview to see her. Dad and Daddy had moved their argument to the bedroom, it definitely wasn't a sound I was used to, but I still felt bad for taking a side. I really can't say I'd minded the short time with Santana.

**A/N: Thanks to all the readers reviewers and everyone who added this story to their favorites and alerts. I really appreciate it guys, especially the reviews because criticism can only make this story better. Thanks so much guys.**


	3. Maybe She'd Have Invited Me

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

The month after our trip was interesting to say the least. Santana showed up at our door at least an hour before I was even awake every time she knew I had a meeting, interview, or for any reason I'd need to leave the apartment. Even times that I had to call her at the last minute she was more than willing to go along with me. What made these visits interesting was that every time she showed up something was always different about her. First she showed up with a black eye, next was a split lip, a tear in her coat, a change in her gait; she usually explained them as souvenirs from sparring matches at the gym, which she still refused to take me to.

Dad still wasn't thrilled with the idea of her staying with us but, eventually, he'd been outmatched by me and Daddy, so when the time came, Santana was back on our doorstep with a larger suitcase than before, a backpack, and her briefcase. The flight was the same, but this time I was surprised to see that she boarded using a driver's license rather than a state ID. She refused to hand it over for me to see, rather, taking amusement in holding it over my head, even Daddy seemed a bit amused, but they spent a good portion of the boarding process trying to get me to talk to them. Finally we were off the plane, taking a rental to the apartment that was meant to be ours for the duration of the stay.

"I call the master," Daddy announced carrying his suitcases quickly as he shoved open doors hurriedly.

Santana stared in shock, most people really weren't used to seeing him act so immaturely, "Does he really think we'd try for it?"

"I can't say for sure," I shrugged, taking my suitcases to look for a room.

"This place is huge," Santana followed me as we passed the living room, a dining room, a game room leading to a patio, and finally came to the rooms, doors already opened by Daddy.

"I suppose," it seemed moderate to me, the game room was a bit much, but other than that it seemed quaint.

"You take the one by the bathroom," she gestured, shoving the door open further.

It had a full bed with moderate decorations, the usual dresser, and two nightstands. I was glad to see the desk in the corner as well. Santana was already in her room unpacking. Her room was very different, as if it was anticipated this was her room. Her bed was a twin with one nightstand, and a much smaller dresser. The suitcase she had laid out was open and what I'd assumed was clothes turned out to be books, and other belongings. She was shoving clothes messily into the dresser when I came in.

"You aren't even going to fold anything?" I wondered, watching her shut drawers.

"Nope," she shook her head.

"Let me help," I offered, starting to remove things and fold them.

She watched curiously as she stopped for a moment, "Why?"

"Because this is horrible," I explained, replacing everything in the drawers, "You should really be more organized.

She scoffed as she moved on to her books. She organized them against the wall on top of the dresser, and I got distracted from my current task as I read the spines. SAT prep, novels, and textbooks were lined up.

"You could've taken the bigger room," I offered, continuing on the drawers.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure nobody would have minded me taking the bigger room in your apartment."

"Really," I mumbled, "I don't need all that room."

"And I do?" She'd opened her briefcase now, and started lining up her weapons. She was far more organized about them; knives going from smallest to largest, her gun and the pellets together, and her stun gun set up by the pepper spray.

"Well, there's a desk you could study at," I suggested as I looked between the weapons and the books.

"I can study in bed," she was staring intently at the tools, straightening them out carefully.

"You'd be closer to the bathroom," I added.

She smirked, "I can make the walk."

I would have gladly continued the the argument, but a deep voice called, "Girls, meeting in the, um," I could almost imagine Daddy turning around to figure out which room he was in, "Living room."

Santana lead the way this time.

"Alright, so," Daddy beamed as he turned from the giant television, "Good news is, the refrigerator is as bigger than my bed."

"And the bad?" Santana wondered.

"It's absolutely empty," he pulled out the keys, "I can go pick us up something but we'd still need to go grocery shopping sometime this week."

"Santana and I can go," I volunteered, "Since she has her license, I mean."

Both their eyes were on me, Santana in disbelief, and Daddy with uncertainty.

"It'd be a good way for us to learn the area," I offered.

"Well," he looked from me to Santana, "Are you alright to drive?"

"Sure," she nodded and held her hand out for the keys.

He handed them over and gave me his debit card, "Please, whatever you do, please don't hit anyone or anything."

"I learned how to drive in New York and New Jersey, I'm sure I can handle California," she assured confidently.

He laughed and nodded, "I trust you to find the meat. If I leave it to her," he tilted his head toward me, "We'll be stuck eating tofu dogs, which I don't entirely trust."

"They are both delicious and healthy," I argued, crossing my arms.

"As true as I'm sure that is, I doubt they can compare to the murderlicious and detrimental taste of a nice greasy hamburger," Santana assured, high-fiving my father as I gaped at them in disgust.

}{

Santana, I discovered, was actually a decent driver. While she was particularly relaxed, driving with her right hand on the wheel and her elbow out the window, it was obvious she was used to this. What she wasn't used to was the automatic shifting; when we left the drive way and when we parked, her hand always instinctively went to the cup holder. She hardly even complained while I toyed with the radio, as long as I kept my eye out for landmarks to help us get back home.

The entire time at the grocery store was mostly just Santana and I bickering about our purchases. My biggest concern was produce, and at first I thought hers was the meat. I was disgusted just by the amount of meat she got, to the point that I made her put it in one of those hand baskets just to keep it away from the rest of the groceries. Eventually it became a compromise, she got real ice cream while I got Silk instead of milk, we got lightly frosted flakes with an extra bag of sugar, and I got meatless spaghetti sauce as long as she could get chicken flavored ramen noodles. Some microwavable foods for the both of us and drinks were by far, the most common ground we had. The most concerning purchase of the night happened in the candy aisle.

"Candy isn't food," I pointed out from the side of the cart.

She was already pulling down a few packages of chocolates and candies when she replied, "It's totally a food."

I watched her for a moment, "You can't seriously plan on eating that much," I lifted up a particularly large package, "What could you possibly need two pounds of Twizzlers for?"

"To eat?" She said, as if it were so obvious.

"Or to share with the entire city?" I suggested.

"Hey, I'm not stingy," she assured.

"All of that's going to ruin your teeth," I groaned as I watched her head towards the checkout lanes.

She shrugged, "I have other assets, trust me."

We piled everything onto the conveyor belt and I paid for the food with Daddy's debit card. Santana had accumulated her own small pile of supplies, razors, soap, shampoo, and conditioner, but it still paled in comparison to the candy she'd purchased. She paid with her own card and then helped me get to the car. The drive home was a bit more difficult, we couldn't remember if we had made a right at the Starbucks or if we were supposed to. I suggested we make the right while Santana made a left. About ten minutes later she begrudgingly made a u-turn and passed the coffee shop. I called Daddy in the car and he was waiting for us in the parking garage, waiting to help us take in the groceries. I was a bit upset when we they had both broken into the bag of Twizzlers before we even had all of the groceries out of the trunk.

Inside I made Santana put away the candy before the two finished off the whole bag themselves. We put the groceries away and Daddy began on dinner, grilled-cheese sandwiches; Santana admitted to being impressed when I found vegan cheese and butter at the store. I was ready to settle at the beautiful mahogany table in the dining room but Daddy and Santana were far more willing to drag me to sit in front of the television in the living room, and I had to admit it was pretty fun. Dad would have killed over before he allowed it, but since he wasn't there, we enjoyed a couple of movies. After dinner Santana offered to help me unpack, but I only agreed on the grounds that she not put away clothes.

"So, when's shooting start?" She wondered as she set up my books on the shelves around the desk.

"In about a week," I supplied, folding the clothes and laying it out on the bed.

"What're we doing until then?" She asked, organizing the books.

"Well," I began, "I assume we'll both be needing a gym, and I think it'd be best if we could find one to accommodate both our needs, and I'm sure Daddy wouldn't mind accompanying us."

"You just want me to keep teaching you how to fight," she pointed out as she continued with the books.

"While I wouldn't be opposed to that, I also believe that being physically fit is important in my line of work," I started putting the separated piles of clothes into their respective drawers.

When I turned to see her she was smirking mischievously at me, "You just want to hit me."

"I try not to think of myself as a violent person," I couldn't hide my amusement at the idea being able to hit her.

"You say that now," she winked before finishing the books.

}{

Daddy was more than willing to join us at the gym the next day. I looked up the nearby gyms and found one with appropriate boxing facilities for Santana and optional lessons for me. We went early in the morning and Daddy strayed from us quickly, heading to the sauna. Santana followed me to the treadmills where we claimed two next to each other. I set mine for a brisk jog but hers was set to a swifter pace. My thirty minute jog paled to the run that she endured.

I found myself watching her as she ran, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths and her arms pressing back and forth as she stared ahead at the mirror before us.

She mouthed something as she caught me watching.

The chorus of pounding feet replaced my exercise playlist as I took out my ear buds, "Excuse me?"

"You must be looking at something pretty interesting," she smirked, brushing a piece of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.

I felt myself flush a bit but hardly acknowledged it, "I was just wondering when I could possibly watch you go about your usual routine."

I doubted she believed it, but she hit the cool down button on her machine, "Whenever you want."

"So what would you normally do first?" I questioned as we both finished.

"Stretch," she found her way to what seemed like an entirely different gym quickly.

A boxing ring in the center of the room was surrounded by people doing various other things. Some were on mats stretching out, others attacking large bags, jumping rope, and practicing together using what looked like oversized catcher's mitts. In the ring were two people sparring. Santana lead me to the mats where she procured two for us and began showing me some stretches, and I was impressed by just how flexible she was, and I wasn't alone as some of the other occupants of the room took notice of her as well.

"Have you ever considered yoga?" I wondered as I followed her, sitting down with my feet together before me and my heels near my groin.

"No," she scoffed, leaning forward, impossibly far, with her head between her knees, "That's too much sitting still."

I tried to follow but found that I couldn't get nearly as far down as her, "Yes, well, I assumed you'd be good at it considering how flexible you are."

She sat up and shook her head, "I don't like to be stationary for too long, and I doubt yoga would be too helpful for me."

"I heard it can be very calming," I replied, choosing to just watch her next position.

"You're just trying to get me to take a class with you, aren't you?" She questioned, leaning on one foot with the other stretched out behind her.

"While I wouldn't be opposed to that," I started, "It was just a thought that maybe you could benefit from a less violent form of exercise."

She rolled her eyes at that, "Yoga isn't exactly the most qualifying skill for a bodyguard," she repeated the motion on her other leg, "and fighting is the most calming thing I do."

"How can it be calming?" I wondered, confused at the statement.

She smirked, "It's calming because if I smack someone around in the ring, then I'm less likely to do it outside."

"That's terrible," I chided, "Have you considered anger management?"

"I failed," she shrugged and led me to an empty bench.

I watched as she searched through her duffel bag, her usual coat sticking out from the bag, "How do you fail anger management."

"Like I said, I'm less likely to hit some passerby when I've been in the ring," she pulled out what looked like gray tape.

"You hit your anger management instructor?" I asked, trying to get her to clarify.

She nodded as she began wrapping her hands, "Among others."

"Surely you could find a more healthy way to vent your frustrations."

She stood up and gestured around the gym and then to her body, "Can't say it's done my body too wrong."

I had to admit her form was ideal. She was taller than me, but that wasn't saying much, with long lean legs, and subtly sculpted arms, and a flat plane highlighted by slight toning for a stomach. I remembered ways her body had been wronged, "You'd show up with a black eye or a limp every other week."

She waved that off, "That's nothing. Those heal and I move on, besides, I look good with a black eye."

"I'm sure you could convince yourself you'd look good covered in fur," I assured.

"Werewolves are in right now," she grinned cheekily.

After tucking everything back into her bag she led me to what looked like a small sack hanging from a board. Santana lowered it until it was at her eye level and lifted her fists to begin striking it. It bounced against the board above it before returning to the following fist as she rotated them across the bag. Her motions were so smooth and fast that I couldn't tell one blow from another. The thud of the bag became a constant rhythm. I'd gotten pretty lost watching the girl before me hardly break a sweat as she hammered the bag, and I'd have been certain it would have continued for quite some time had a girl not passed and drawn her attention away. When the spell was broken and the constant smack of the bag slowed to a dead stop I followed her line of vision to see the dark-skinned girl waving her towards the ring.

"You wanted to watch me spar, right?" She asked, grabbing her bag and not breaking eye contact.

"Spar, but that hardly seems to be what either of you are interested in," I mentioned.

"For now it is," she shrugged, beckoning for me to follow as she went towards the ring. She turned to me and pointed to the bench, "Sit. Don't talk to strangers."

"I'm old enough to sit by myself while you trounce about, flirting with anything that crosses your path," I assured.

She gave me a look that clearly said she'd be offended later, but as she looked up to the girl watching us from the ring, she nodded, "Good girl." She pulled some trinket from her bag before climbing in the ring.

The two moved to the center, a mischievous, almost predatory smirk on Santana's lips before she slipped the trinket into her mouth and I saw that it was a guard.

"You're new here," the darker girl pointed out.

"Does it show?" Santana wondered as they began.

"No," the girl took the first hit but Santana easily dodged it, "I just like to think I might have known you if you were a regular."

"Can't say I'd mind being a regular if you're the welcoming committee," San assured, going for a shot.

They were too quick to monitor each and every move but hits were obvious, the thud of knuckles on torso was not lost on me. The wince one of them elicited each landed was another sign. They didn't seem to be going by rounds. As long as they kept talking, they kept moving.

"A proper welcome involves a tour, right?" The girl suggested a smirk to match Santana's own tugging at her lips.

"Typically, yes," the Latina agreed.

"Maybe after?" The girl wondered.

San shook her head, ducking below a quick jab and upper cutting, "I have to work."

"Let me guess," the girl started, obviously deterred by the last blow, "Dancer?"

"Usually don't get paid for that," San answered.

"Definitely could," the girl assured, "Greeter at a store?"

"I'm not exactly a people person," Santana shrugged.

"I guess that would explain why you aren't getting paid to dance," the girl winked.

Santana laughed at that, amusement coating her features, "It would."

"Model?" The girl supplied.

"I'm flattered," Santana grinned.

"Do I get a hint?"

She nodded in my direction, "I tail her all day."

"Stalker?" She teased.

"Try babysitter," she laughed.

They both paused their scrapping as I shouted, "I'm hardly a child!"

They continued for probably half an hour. Daddy even showed up to watch along with me. It was easy to tell neither of them was very committed to the actual fight but with the wince-inducing punches it made me wonder what an actual match for Santana was like. When we left, Santana was sure to get the girl's number. Apparently, Ramona was interesting enough for Santana to keep her number. I couldn't help but wonder what the qualifications for any sort of legitimate attention from Santana were. As we left the gym, she and Daddy discussed her history with the sport and he admitted an interest in it when he was younger.

}{

The rest of the day Santana was in her room. I tried distracting myself with my schoolwork and venturing through the apartment. The game room was alright although I wasn't particularly interested in the pool table. I took my script to the living room to study, but eventually that became monotonous. Finally, after about seven Santana came out of her room clad in black skinny jeans, a white camisole, and her usual black coat. Where her hair was usually either in a messy bun or hanging naturally down, but now it was flat-ironed into slight waves, cascading over her shoulders.

"Are you going out?" I wondered as I saw her looking around.

"Yeah," she nodded, "Where's Leroy?"

"The kitchen," I supplied, "Where are you going?"

She nodded and headed for the kitchen door, "Out."

"With Ramona?" I asked as I followed.

"Maybe," she shrugged, "Mr. Berry."

"Oh, hey kid," he greeted her, peaking from the fridge before returning to his routing.

"Is it a date?" I asked.

"No," she shook her head, "I was wondering if I could go out, I mean, if you don't need me here or anything."

"Of course," he grinned, closing the door as he brought out the makings of a sandwich, "You're an adult, and it's not like Rachel's got much to worry about around here."

"You two speak like I'm a child," they both leveled me with their gazes, before I returned to probing Santana, "If it's not a date can I go with you?"

"Rach, give her a break," Daddy said, "Let her have a night."

"Thank you, Mr. Berry," she smiled at him, before grinning and elbowing me playfully, "At least we'll have plenty of fun on your dates."

I flushed slightly, "I thought you said this wasn't a date."

She just smirked and left.

"You might have benefitted from siblings," Daddy pointed out.

"What do you mean? I was merely wondering about her plans for the evening," I clarified.

He chuckled, "She made a valid point."

"About what?"

"I don't need to worry nearly as much about you dating, with her around," he beamed, putting away his materials and taking his sandwich.

"That's hardly fair," I argued, "How come she gets to go out on dates?"

"Because she's pretty much an adult and this is time off from her job."

I glared, "We're almost the same age."

"She doesn't need a bodyguard," he reasoned, leaving the kitchen.

}{

I wasn't even tired, just consumed with curiosity of Santana's evening. It was well past midnight when I heard the soft pad of feet and the creaking of her door. I went to my own door and crossed the hall silently, wrapping my knuckles on the door lightly. She beckoned me in and I saw her tousling her already ruffled hair, a look of relaxation across her face. She hung her coat in her closet and turned to me, revealing a dark mark on the side of her neck.

"Is that from earlier?" I questioned, moving closer to look.

"What?" She pulled back slightly, and as I pressed my finger to it she hissed slightly, "Oh. No, it's not."

As I looked closer I realized what it was, teeth marks more obvious, "Oh."

"Did you want something?" She asked, sitting on her bed and stretching.

"I wanted to ask about your night," I really was curious, I wanted to know everything.

She quirked an eyebrow and nodded to the foot of the bed, "Ask what?"

"What did you do? Where did you go? Was it with Ramona?" I offered, hoping to get an answer to at least one as I sat.

She leaned back on the bed, "We went to her place."

"And?" I urged.

That usual amused smirk crossed her face, "I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"Well," I began, picking at the comforter, "Was it a good night?"

"Very," she nodded.

"Might it be happening again soon?"

She brought her hand up to chew at her thumb thoughtfully before a curiosity of her own reared its head, "Why do you care so much about my night? Don't you have other friends to gossip with?"

I worried my lip slightly at that, not really wanting to answer. Sure, there had been coworkers and cast-mates who, on some level, I'd clicked with, but we hardly maintained more contact than an odd phone call or a quick e-mail update. I'd never been exactly the first person on everyone's mind when it came to fun.

She sensed my hesitance and sighed, "She said she wouldn't mind it happening again."

I smiled and pulled my legs up to my chest and faced her, "Would you."

"I wouldn't," she shook her head, crossing her legs, "But I'm not exactly looking for anything right now."

"So you just wanted the one date?" I wondered.

"You're intent on this being a date, aren't you?" She laughed.

"Why wouldn't it be?" I wondered naively.

"Because I don't date," she explained.

"Then what did you do tonight?"

"Hooked up," she shrugged.

I couldn't help it when my eyes widened slightly, "But you just met her today."

She nodded, her delight at my shock growing.

"That's terribly irresponsible of you. I can't believe you'd act in such a promiscuous and unsavory manner. Honestly, I noticed you were a bit of a flirt but I hardly believed you were the type to actually behave with such abandon. Ignoring the obvious health risks you've opened yourself to, hadn't you even considered how you might appear otherwise? I mean, you might be a bit rough around the edges but surely you don't think as little of yourself as to portray yourself as loose," I ranted on, continuing even as she rubbed her temple.

To her credit, her gaze remained sober and unclouded unlike most people's until I finished, "I want to be upset that you just called me loose, but I'm pretty winded just from listening to you."

I scowled at her, "Well, when you behave as such, I think somebody should point out the hazards to you."

She waved me off, "I'm aware of what I'm doing, thanks. I know exactly what I get myself into and I always know my way out. People are always going to have opinions of me, why should I stop enjoying myself because of that?"

"You're obviously enjoying more than yourself," I pointed out, "and it gives people the wrong impression. Why would you want people thinking that you're only good for one thing, or god forbid, only after it?"

She smirked at that, "I'm good for a great deal more than that, and I suppose I really am just after one thing. Care to take a stab at what it is?"

I blushed furiously at that and crossed my arms, "Santana, that's hardly appropriate."

"Why? Because everyone else says so? Because it makes me look loose?" The conversation took a far more serious tone than I'd expected it to, "I'm young and like sex, what could I possibly have to wait for?"

"Love," I supplied firmly.

She stared blankly at me for a moment, as if gauging my seriousness. The silence went on for quite some time. Eventually I felt myself blush again as her gaze bore into me, waiting for some sign that I was joking.

"What?" I finally broke the silence.

"You're serious, aren't you?" She asked.

I confirmed with a solid nod, "I am."

"So, you've never," she let the question trail off.

"No," I shook my head, "I haven't done that with anyone."

"I feel," she began, gesturing to herself as she tried to explain herself, "I feel as if I should have sensed this. I mean, it's one more thing for you to get preachy with me about, so I should have just known."

I huffed, amusing her further, "I'm not preachy, and I just believe that in some aspects of your life you could be making better choices."

"So you vocalize your opinion on each matter and suggest ways I might better myself?"

"Exactly."

"Which might also be known as preaching," she pointed out.

I glared at her, loathing the grin that covered her face.

"So, anymore questions for me?" She asked.

I wasn't sure if she was serious but I had plenty more, "When did you start?"

Her eyebrows knit together slightly and she worried her lip.

Before she could answer, I thought about Daddy's earlier suggestion and gave her a break, "You probably aren't going to answer anyway."

She maintained the same thoughtful expression and shook her head, "It's not that I don't want to answer this one, I'm just not entirely sure I want to hear what you have to say." I was about to argue that I was hardly the one judging her but reconsidered, "Try me again some other time."

"Well, are we going back to the gym tomorrow?" I tried changing the subject.

Her expression relaxed a bit more at that, "Isn't there something else you'd rather do? We can work out here, if that's really what you want, or find a park."

"A park might be nice," I mumbled through a yawn.

"Realize," she started, "That I'm not carrying you to your bed."

"You won't have to, I'm awake," I stifled another yawn with the back of my hand.

"And I'm considering a career in commercial fishing," she slid down into the bed with her arms behind her head.

I rolled my eyes at her, "If you want me to go, just say so."

"You don't have to go, just try and plan the next sleepover in your room, unless you like being crammed into this bed like sardines."

"Did you go to a lot of sleepovers as a kid?" I wondered, watching her curiously.

"No," she mumbled, "Nobody invites the new kid, the angry kid, or the girl everyone thinks got kicked out of school."

"Or the bossy girl who follows every rule," I added.

"Maybe she'd have invited me," she offered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I couldn't help but smile at that, before standing up to turn off the light. I didn't know if her's was a real offer but when I laid with my back to her in the small bed, she didn't wake to reprimand me. I curled slightly and rested with my arm as a pillow. A small part of me admitted that she was just putting up with me, she worked for me so she was obligated to be nice, or that she just pitied me. More than that, I enjoyed the feeling of having any experience resembling a real friendship with anybody but my fathers.

}{

I'd become very used to waking up in hotel rooms and places that weren't my home, but that morning was particularly disorienting. A fog of sleep kept me from recognizing the comforter I was under, or the books I'd yet to read, and the weapons on the dresser. The door creaked open and a familiar voice filled the room before a body followed it. Santana came in, humming a song I should have recognized but couldn't quite place it, drying her onyx locks with a towel. She'd finally changed into more appropriate sleepwear, a t-shirt and some bicycle shorts.

"About time you woke up," she mumbled as she dropped the towel on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I grumbled rubbing my eyes as the night came back to me.

She grabbed a brush from somewhere and started untangling her hair, "Less work for me, but less sleep too."

"What do you mean?" I questioned as I sat up.

"You snore like a damn lawnmower," she explained and pointed to the door, "I spent most of the night in the living room."

I blushed at that, "I do not!"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm going to record you."

"That won't prove anything because I don't snore," I assured, moving out from under her comforter.

She shrugged and sat on the bed to continue with her hair.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"About?" She asked indifferently, putting the brush down to run her fingers through her hair.

"Getting "Preachy," as you put it," I sighed, looking over her, "You're an adult, I suppose, and what you do in your own personal life is your own business, and I should probably be more appreciative of your willingness to share what you do with me."

"Doesn't matter," she waved me off, "I'd prefer an apology for those monologues that you put me through but I'll take what I can get."

I huffed slightly at that but she cut me off before I could complain.

"Come on," she waved me forward as she stood up, "I'll try to figure out how to make you breakfast."

}{

"I read the package already," Santana repeated, "I'm pretty sure they didn't just blast "Vegan" across the box to increase sales."

"You never know," I snatched the box from her while she mixed the batter with water, "It's a good idea to check just in case."

"If you don't stop questioning me I'm going to mix in some chocolate chips and ruin the whole damn batch," she declared.

"I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that," a deep scratchy voice came from behind us, "You wouldn't happen to do eggs too, would you?"

"Of course, sir," Santana grinned, snatching the box back from me and placing it on the counter.

"Stop with that sir nonsense," he waved her off as he took a seat at the bar, "Leroy works."

"Alright," she nodded, starting to pour the batter into the heated pan.

"So do you two have any plans for the day?" He wondered.

"San said we could go to the park," I mentioned, watching her pull the pan away from the stove top to flip.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," she groaned as she went to the fridge quickly and returned with some eggs.

"Can we go after breakfast?" I asked, finally tearing my attention away from her as she cracked them into another pan.

"I should probably get some work done," Daddy supplied, "Call Dad today."

"I will," I nodded.

We ate breakfast at the bar, Daddy and Santana devouring their eggs while I ate my pancakes with cut up strawberries. Daddy gave Santana the keys once more and we left for the park. She'd changed from her t-shirt but kept her bike shorts on. As we drove, looking for a neighborhood that might have a park, we talked a bit over the radio.

"Do you really want to work out today?" She wondered, leaning lazily forward against the steering wheel.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a serious work out but it could be nice," I shrugged.

She leaned back slightly, "I guess."

"Or you could teach me how to drive," I offered.

She scoffed at that, "A quick jog sound good?"

"I'm a quick learner, really," I assured.

"Shouldn't you call your dad?" She changed the subject quickly.

"I will, but this might be a good time to teach me," I offered.

"Just call while I look around."

"Will you at least think about it?" I wondered, pulling out my phone.

"I have, and shouldn't your dads teach you?" She wondered.

"They say I probably won't need it," I shrugged.

"I get that," she nodded.

"But I'd like to be able to. It's one more thing I can't do by myself," I groaned.

She nodded and looked to me as we reached a stop sign, "I'd probably be pissed if I couldn't leave the house without someone at my side."

"I don't mind you, I actually kind of like your company," I sighed, "I just want to drive, or go out at night, or be left alone for a while without someone expecting something to go wrong."

She sighed, "Make the call, and I'll see what I can do later."

"Really?" I brightened quickly.

She waved me on and continued searching for a park.

I dialed the number quickly and waited for the answer on the end, "Rachel, sweetie, how are you doing?"

I smiled at the comforting voice, "Hey dad, how are you?"

"I'm great, just got off of work," he went into a rant about a client that went into his office for the day. I just listened for a while until Santana finally pulled into a parking lot, "So how are you and Daddy."

"We're doing great, actually, we've both been getting along with Santana really well too," I added.

"Oh, that's good," he didn't sound pleased.

"She made us breakfast and we're exercising together," I added, "Actually we just got to the park."

"Just the two of you?" He asked, concern tinting his voice.

"Yes, she drove us," I explained.

"Rachel, sweetie, I really don't think that's the best idea."

"Why not? She has a license," I felt myself growing frustrated.

He groaned on the other end and mumbled to himself, "I told Leroy this was a bad idea," before he raised his voice purposefully for me to hear, "Rachel, she's your age running around like she's some sort of- of-"

"Bodyguard," I supplied, "Because she's my bodyguard."

"She's a child playing pretend," he argued.

I scowled at the phone, "Well, then I guess we're pretending I haven't been attacked by any assailants on the street or over-excited fans."

"And what is she going to do if you are, Rachel? She's barely bigger than you, and I'm sure she puts on a nice show at the gym, but what happens when some brute with a gun attacks you?" He demanded.

I dropped the phone to my lap and sighed before bringing it back up, "I hope we don't have to find out. I have to go, Santana wants to start stretching."

"Rachel, this conversation isn't ove-" I hung up, dropping the phone to my lap again.

I felt eyes on me, but I scowled out the windshield.

"Which way's west?" Santana mumbled from next to me.

I looked to the compass on the rearview mirror, locating the small glowing _N_, before pointing to the west.

We drove in silence for quite a while; I'd even turned off the radio at some point. I couldn't understand why Dad was so against Santana watching over me. It's not like he or Daddy could be with me 24/7 and Santana seemed happy enough to just go along with me. I knew Santana was young but she seemed well-off enough to take care of herself along with me. It became blaringly more obvious as the ocean came into view.

"What're we doing here?" I asked, my earlier frustration being replaced by confusion.

She smirked proudly at me as she searched for a parking space, "We are being left alone without anybody expecting anything to go wrong."

"Dad expects plenty to go wrong," I sighed as she got out of the car.

She rushed to my side and opened the door, "Trust me, I'm the worst thing that's going to happen to you today."

I couldn't deny the burn that coated my cheeks as she winked at me.

She locked the car and put some change in the meter before leading me along the sidewalk. She brought me to a cart and bought me a snow cone. We went to the sand sat below a palm tree. It's not like I'd never been to the beach before, but it was different this time. With Santana I was distracted from my annoyance, and while I wasn't entirely alone, I still didn't mind her company, I felt more independent than I would have with my dads. Later, when I accused her of being sweet, she claimed she'd only taken me to the beach because she didn't want to run. Although I was opposed to it at first, I'd even sort of enjoyed it when she convinced me not to tell Dad and Daddy.


	4. With Or Without Commitment

**A/N: So, sorry this took so long. I got so stuck on this one because I can only get ideas for the future of this and it's annoying cause I can't get there. Hope you guys enjoy this. The song in here is Love is a losing game by Amy Winehouse. Thanks to all you guys for being so patient and still reading and reviewing if you actually still are.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

"Shouldn't Leroy be coming with us?" She wondered as she started the car.

"Really, we're fine without him," I assured, "It's probably just a reading today."

"How do you keep talking us into this? Can you do that to Hiram too?"

"Well, Daddy trusts you and I assume you do it out of a sense of obligation." I shrugged and then shook my head, "Dad doesn't seem to trust you quite as much so it might be harder."

"How about you?" She queried, "How're you feeling about me so far?"

I looked her over for a moment, watching as she shifted the car into reverse, "While I understand that it isn't your responsibility, I appreciate that you put up with me on more than a professional level."

She scoffed at that, "Don't make it seem like I'm suffering."

"I understand that I can be difficult-"

"Not how I'd put it," she interrupted, "But when you aren't being preachy you're pretty interesting."

I couldn't help the small smile that overtook my face at that.

She took us out of the parking garage before she went on, "I get my fair share of people who think I'm difficult too."

I found that hard to believe. Aside from her tendency to avoid answering questions she hardly seemed difficult. If anything she was almost any parent's ideal child. She was brilliant and gorgeous, and although her choice of career wasn't as ideal, she was definitely very determined.

}{

Our drive was pretty quiet. I fiddled with the radio or read the directions we'd looked up while Santana drove. Every so often we'd point out sites to keep in mind for later visits. She did her best to focus on driving but at lights I noticed her attention elsewhere, like the boutique I was certain she wouldn't have found in New York or the jeweler that didn't have a branch in Jersey. When we arrived at the studio she tried to convince the security guard to let us in but apparently the bulky old man wasn't particularly swayed by her annoyed tone. Finally I found the pass I'd been given which made us seem a bit more serious. After parking we had to find our way to the set, where the director was excited to see me.

"Hey, if it isn't our star!" A man with graying hair jumped up.

"Hello Mr. Jameson," I greeted with a smile.

He pulled me in for a hug, letting go when Santana cleared her throat behind us, "Clyde is fine, really. Should I be getting to know your friend here?"

When I looked to Santana she shook her head, "I suppose not."

"Just pretend I'm not here," she suggested.

"Alright," he gave us both a confused look before starting on his explanation of the set as he led us around.

Santana hardly seemed interested in the tour, yawning and adding her own sarcastic commentary to everything. As we met other cast members they seemed to take her advice before she gave it. She did a fairly good job of making herself seem less important than she really was. My leading man, a tall chestnut haired boy named Cyrus hardly seemed to care about her as he was introduced to me. I would have been glad to speak to him a bit longer but Clyde insisted we move on. There were a few more cast and crew members before anybody else really caught my attention. Clyde led us to a false staircase with what looked like a partially inflated air mattress at the bottom. I was going to ask what we were looking at when a girl fell from the top of the stairs onto the mattress. I couldn't help the worried shriek that came from my lips until I heard the chuckling from all around me.

"Rachel, calm down," Clyde urged, still laughing. "Cosette," He called the girl over.

She struggled out of the mattress and when she brushed her hair out of her face and jogged up to us, I couldn't help but notice the eerie similarities between the girl before me and the reflection I saw in the mirror every day."Hey Clyde, this her?"

"Yep," he nodded before turning back to me, "This is Cosette, your stunt double."

The girl held her hand out to me, grinning.

"Uh, hello, it will be a pleasure to work with you," I gave a polite smile.

"You were right," she told Clyde while examining me, that smile still in place, "I'm perfect for the job, we look like twins."

"I told you," the man beamed.

"Should I be getting to know her too?" The doppelganger asked, looking behind us to an intrigued looking Santana.

"It's not necessary but I suppose it would be in our best professional interest," I found myself watching the girl's reaction Santana.

"Santana," The raven-haired girl offered.

"Interesting," her voice took on a subtle tone of its own, "I think I'll join your tour."

I felt myself grow annoyed with the girls presence as the tour continued. Clyde kept introducing me to cast and crew members that even found themselves shocked by the similarities between me and Cosette. I tried to pay attention to the tour but I could only half listen as I found myself more interested in the flirtations going between the girls behind us. Clyde's tour fell on deaf ears as I tuned into the voices behind me. Finally we were outside, heading towards what looked like a parking lot full of trailers. After showing us the make-up trailer he led us to a series of smaller ones.

"I hope you don't mind, but you and Cosette will be sharing this one," Clyde offered.

The other girl was already on her way in.

Santana held the door for me.

"Our read for the first scene is tomorrow," the man offered over his shoulder. He disappeared into the maze of trailers.

The small space was already sort of decorated; a loveseat in the corner had a couple of blankets and pillows strewn across it. The small vanity had a few bottles and tools scattered across it. I watched as Santana made herself comfortable on the loveseat while Cosette went to the mini-fridge and pulled out some water bottles. It wasn't until both girls were staring curiously at me that I realized I'd just been standing awkwardly around.

"Come here," Santana called, moving to the arm of the couch and I took the seat next to her.

"So, what exactly is up with you two?" Cosette asked, tossing the bottles to us.

"I work for her," Santana offered, opening her water.

"So there's nothing going on with you two?" The girl asked, taking a seat next to me.

Santana scoffed past her bottle, "Should I answer that or would you like Rachel to go into a rant about how incompatible we are."

"You act as if I have no reason to speak to you as I do. All I do is give my opinions on your choices and provide details as to why I feel that way. I could just as easily leave you with no explanation as to why I feel the way I do. Would it be preferable that I give you empty comments, or how about I do as you would and answer everything with a quick and snappy remark?"

"Probably," she nodded, staring boredly at me as she took a sip from her water.

"Does she breathe?" Cosette asked.

I only huffed and crossed my arms.

"What was the last one about?" Santana asked me.

"I don't know," I scowled.

"Wait, I know, you were complaining about my jacket," she smirked, leaning forward to bump my shoulder with her elbow.

"I like your jacket," Cosette got up to move past me and stand unnecessarily close to Santana as she fingered the collar of her coat, "I think it's sexy."

I couldn't understand why it made me so upset to see this girl flirting with Santana. It probably wasn't the best response but it was still somewhat satisfying to see both of their faces when I said, "Hey, why don't you see if Cosette would like to meet you and Ramona tonight. You guys are going out aren't you?"

Santana turned and gaped at me, her face pale as she looked me over, trying to discern if I'd really just said that.

"Is that a friend of yours?" Cosette asked, examining both of us for a moment.

"Yeah, a friend," Santana offered, glaring at me slightly.

"I'm going outside for a smoke," The shorter of the two offered, letting go of Santana. She didn't exactly look upset, but I couldn't read her expression as she walked outside.

"I'll join you," Santana called, her annoyance more obvious as she walked outside.

I sighed, feeling guilt settle over me.

I stood up and went to the door, pushing it open and expecting to see at least one girl upset with the other. Instead I found Cosette pulling away from Santana with a mischievous smirk on her face. The shorter girl walked away with a slight wave, before pulling a cigarette from a small box. I notice a similar figure between Santana's fingers, although hers had somehow already been burnt halfway down. I stepped down from the trailer and looked up to her, ready to say something.

"If it's not an apology I don't want to hear it," she cut me off before I even had the chance to say anything. She brought the small white stick to her lips and I couldn't help but scowl at it for a moment.

I sighed, waving the smoke she was blowing away from my face, "That's terrible for you. It's going to destroy your lungs, skin, teeth, and while I'm sure you don't care, I should let you know that I'd rather not be to blame for you feeling as if you need to ruin your health for the sake of talking to her."

"I think there was an apology somewhere in there," she still didn't sound pleased.

"While I don't see it as acceptable for you to two-time your girlfriend," her scowl deepened at that, "and my co-worker, it probably wasn't my place to mention Ramona."

""Probably?"" She repeated, taking another deep drag from her cigarette.

"It wasn't," I ceded.

"Whatever," she breathed, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"I didn't think you were the type to smoke," I wondered.

"Not usually," she dropped the butt of the cigarette stomping it out with her shoe, "But I couldn't stay in there without saying something to you I might regret."

I wanted to be offended but I sort of deserved that.

"Can we go home?" She asked, pulling out the keys.

"I suppose, if we aren't needed here any longer."

}{

She didn't say anything, just led me back to the car. The drive was more silent and direct this time. When we did reach the parking garage it was the first time our height difference became more apparent. I'd grown used to her always walking behind me or at my side, but she seemed to be reminding herself that she had to wait for me as she kept ahead of me. I couldn't even see her face. When we reached the apartment she just made her way to the room. I couldn't think of any way to make it up to the dark-haired girl without upsetting her further so I just went to my own room.

"Rach!" Daddy called as I stared at my door, contemplating an apology.

"Coming," I returned, sighing as I put my planning on hold, making my way to the kitchen.

"How was the first day?" Daddy asked from over his laptop.

I shrugged and took a seat on the opposite side of the bar.

"Something happen?" He looked up from the screen.

I thought over how exactly to tell him, deciding directly might be the best, "I might have let a girl she may have been interested in know that she's seeing somebody else."

He sighed and looked down to his laptop before closing it, "I thought she wasn't exclusive with that other girl."

"She isn't but that doesn't mean she should just be-"

He cut me off, holding up his hand, "I know this won't be the last time I say this, but Santana's an adult, and as long as her personal life doesn't interfere with her job, it's none of your concern."

"But-" he stopped me once more.

"Rachel, she really doesn't need to share her personal life with you, and the fact that she has tells me she isn't exactly looking for you to judge her."

I nodded silently.

"Don't make her uncomfortable sweetie, she's already gone pretty out of her way for this job," he reminded before opening his laptop again.

I nodded again, looking down thoughtfully.

"Other than that," he started, his tone softening, "How was your first day?"

I shrugged, "It was alright. We got a tour, and met some of the cast and crew which were interesting."

"Anybody of particular interest?"

"This one girl," I couldn't help but feel distaste come up at the thought of her, "My stunt double. She looks exactly like me."

"Is she the one Santana was flirting with?" He wondered, something akin to entertainment crossing his features as he continued working.

"Yes, why?" I found myself annoyed.

"You just didn't seem too thrilled to mention her," he pointed out.

"And you're suggesting I don't like her because Santana does?"

He shrugged his amusement more obvious.

"Daddy, really, I don't care that Santana was hitting on her, just that she was doing it while she has a pseudo relationship going on with another girl. I didn't believe it was fair to either of them."

"Rachel-" he started.

I slid off of my seat, "I know. It's not my business."

"Just try and be a little less, well, forward with your opinions," he offered.

"I will," I assured before heading down the hall. I knocked hopefully on the door just a few feet from my own, "Santana," I called.

No response came.

"Santana, may I please speak with you?" I asked past the barrier, twisting the doorknob to find it was locked.

Again, I'd gained no response. I was going to walk away when the door barely opened to expose Santana, she didn't exactly look upset but I didn't enjoy the indifference plastered across her features.

"I really feel that I should apologize for the way that acted earlier," I started, "So can I come in?"

She didn't move the door; instead she just waited for me to go on.

I did so, with a sigh, "It wasn't fair of me to bring up Ramona while you were so obviously soliciting Cosette. It's no business of mine who you choose to court and when."

She still didn't say anything.

"Santana, while I assume that you might be upset with me, as unwarranted as it may be," she started closing the door again, and I quickly added, "From my vantage point, I hope that we can get past it."

Her jaw clenched thoughtfully, and I assumed she was going to snap at me; instead she closed the door again. I heard some rustling behind the door and in a second she'd opened it again, her familiar leather coat on, "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" I asked, following her to the living room.

"You can't come with me," she stopped at the door, pulling the keys from her pocket and handing them to me. It was somewhat comforting to know she didn't need to get far enough away from me that she'd need the car.

"So you tried apologizing?" Daddy asked from the kitchen.

I turned to glare at him over the bar.

"Sweetie, I know you. You don't make anything easy on anyone. Just let her cool off and she'll come back, it's not like she has anywhere else to go."

}{

I groaned and headed to my room. I sat around for a few moments, wondering what I could do to earn Santana's forgiveness. I couldn't think much further than apologizing. Eventually, I started reading over my script. I wasn't quite retaining anything, just going through the motions of reading. I hadn't even realized how long I'd been staring at the script when the front door closed. I heard a quick greeting between Santana and Daddy. I tried to listen for the familiar pad of her feet as she came down the hall but it didn't come. A few moments passed and I finally went out to look for her. Her room was clear, and Daddy was still the only one in the kitchen. He suggested I check the game room, and I saw a fairly dim light trickling from it. When I entered the room I saw the light to the small patio on. When I went to it I saw Santana outside, sitting on a steel chair with her feet up on the small metal fence. A small glow came from her hand and I finally slid the glass door over.

"Have I started something?" I wondered, leaning against the metal fence.

"Probably not," she took a long drag from the cigar, "There's less appeal now that I can buy them on my own."

I watched as she let out the smoke slowly, focusing as her mouth form almost a perfect O and rings slipped from her lips. "How do you do that?"

She snorted, "I'm not showing you."

"I don't expect you to," I started, "Can I just see how you do it?"

She finally looked at me, before blowing a stream of smoke out.

"Please?"

She waved me forward, taking another drag, with her right hand she reached out, squeezing my cheeks, "Make an O," she demonstrated. The rings came out of her mouth slowly and I watched them.

"Those smell nice," I offered, as I leaned back "Much better than I expected."

"Chocolate," she held up a small box.

"Cigarillo?" I read the package curiously.

She laughed slightly, dropping the package back onto her lap, before correcting my pronunciation "_Cigarillo_."

"While I'm aware of my earlier comments about possible side-effects that smoking may have-"

"I'm not letting you smoke," she assured, looking back to the city before us.

"Why not?" I asked, following her hand as she flicked some ashes into a cup on the ground.

"Lungs, skin, teeth, and whatever else you said," she mumbled, rolling her hand dismissively.

"By that logic you shouldn't be smoking near me," I started, "Second-hand smoke can be just as dangerous as if you were to actually hand me yours."

"Not helping your case," she gave an amused smirk.

While I was glad she didn't seem as upset with me, I couldn't ignore the annoyance I always felt at that smirk.

"Besides, you're the one who followed me out here."

"Well if you would have just talked to me instead of leaving and staying out all hours of the night we wouldn't be out here," I argued.

"Talked about my non-existent relationships?"

"Yes," I ground out, "No- I mean- I apologized."

She was putting out the butt of her cigarillo and starting a second, "An apology doesn't usually include lecturing me."

"Not that I haven't brought up some valid points," I mumbled but at her glare I shook my head, "Daddy mentioned that I can be very forward with my opinions and I understand that you may not be very appreciative of them, especially when they can come off more as criticisms. You may or may not have noticed that my social skills are often more appropriate for professional occasions than more lax events such as hanging out, so I really do appreciate your willingness to do as much with me when I can be awkward."

She pulled the cigarillo from her lips and sighed, "A good wingman talks up their friend." At my confused look she added, "Just some friendly advice."

"I'll try to be a better wingman next time," I smiled, glad that she wasn't upset.

She laughed at that, "Can't wait to see how that goes."

"Can I try now?" I held out my hand toward hers.

She looked down skeptically, "What kind of friend would I be if I let you smoke?"

"One that encourages new experiences," I offered.

She chuckled before pulling her feet from the fence and letting the chair drop, "I foresee myself corrupting you sooner or later." She stood up and stretched slightly before moving behind me. With her right hand on my shoulder she held the cigarillo up before me and I couldn't help but hold her wrist slightly. "One drag," she urged. "Don't inhale it like a cigarette, just pull it into your mouth," she informed, and I nodded before pulling the small stick between my lips.

I followed her instructions, doing my best not to pull the smoke in too far. It was sweet and the chocolate taste was obvious.

"Now make the O with your lips and cough gently," she mumbled, watching me closely.

That wasn't too hard, especially since the moment I opened my mouth I had to fight the urge to have a coughing fit. The smoke rushed out rather than forming the delicate hoops that they did when Santana performed the trick.

"You inhaled didn't you?" Santana asked through her laughter as she pulled the stick away from me and rubbed my back.

"Yeah," I mumbled as the cough dissipated.

"Trust me," she grinned, "It could have been worse."

"How?" I wondered, glaring at her.

"You could have thrown up," she informed me, urging me inside.

As I opened the door she put out the butt before following me inside. "What exactly is a wingman supposed to do?"

"Talk me up," she shrugged, following me to my room.

"How?"

"Make me sound good," she sat on my bed, shrugging off her coat, "Help me to convince a girl I'm worth her time instead of making her think I'm two-timing her."

"But you are."

She gave me a pointed look, "Not if they're only after the same thing."

"What exactly do Ramona and Cosette see in you?" I wondered aloud.

"Ramona wants somebody on her arm," she mumbled.

"She doesn't care that you chase other girls?"

"Only because it makes her look bad. I probably won't get back to her."

"And Cosette?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet, maybe just the same thing as me."

"Oh," I mumbled. "How exactly do I talk you up then? I mean, I doubt most girls would respond well to, "She's only using you for sex, but its okay because you can use her to make appearances.""

"You could try it," she grinned cheekily.

"It's not even like you need me; you seem to do just fine on your own."

"Oh, I do," she nodded, "I'm a catch, with or without the commitment. But we're friends," I smiled as she said that, "And I want you to feel included."

I wasn't sure how I felt about helping her meet girls that she probably wouldn't bother speaking to after she got what she wanted from them, but I did look forward to what she made seem like normal friendly behavior. We settled in my room, talking and working on some of my school work for a while. Eventually, I found I kind of liked listening to her hum random songs while she ran through the assignments. At some point I stopped giving any sort of input and found myself trying to discern the songs, hoping for some lyrics to slip out but they didn't.

"Sing," I urged, looking up to her.

"What?" She mumbled, not looking up from the screen.

"The song you're humming, can you sing it?"

"Um," she blushed slightly, trying to keep her eyes on the screen.

"I just can't think of the name," I urged, "If you sing it I'll be able to figure it out."

"It's-"

I cut her off quickly, "No, please just sing it."

She looked like she was going to keep arguing, but she just sighed and nodded.

"_Though I battle blind  
>Love is a fate resigned<br>Memories mar my mind  
>Love is a fate resigned<em>

_Over futile odds  
>And laughed at by the gods<br>And now the final frame  
>Love is a losing game"<em>

She'd sung the words lowly, but it was obvious she was talented. When she finished she let the last words sort of trail off. She didn't keep humming and I barely registered that the sound of her fingers rushing across the keyboard had stopped as well. She licked her lips, looking nervous for the first time since I'd met her.

"What?" She finally asked, her cheeks taking on a slightly pink tint as she looked at me. "I mean, I know I'm no Broadway star but you asked."

"No, you weren't bad," I gave a small smile, "It was nice."

"If you say so," she forced her eyes back to the screen and the sound of her typing picked up again, although not as quickly."

"Why don't you sing more often?" I wondered.

"I just," she shrugged, "Don't."

"With some training you could probably be really good," I assured.

"That was almost a compliment," she teased, relaxing once more.

"I'm being serious," I shoved her playfully.

"Well, as sure as I am that you are, I don't see myself going very far with it. I mean, when have you heard of a singing bodyguard?"

"You dance too," I reminded, "It could work."

She laughed at that.

We continued that way for a while, her humming started again, but she didn't start singing even with my prompting. Daddy called us to ask what we'd be having for dinner. Even though I'd visibly blanched when he asked what smelled like chocolate, Santana took the blame. Daddy still seemed to know but let it slide when Santana assured it was just on the patio. We ordered in and settled for a movie.

"How are you dealing with this?" Santana asked Daddy as she glared at the television.

"Texting Hiram," he mumbled as he tapped furiously at his phone.

"Hush," I urged both of them, "You two could really learn to appreciate talent when it's before you."

"I'd appreciate Big Bird if he stuck to singing about the alphabet instead of butter," she prodded.

"She's not- That's so- That's not what the song is about Santana," I couldn't decide which remark to be more offended by.

She looked far more amused than she had during the course of the movie.

"Barbara Streisand is a treasure, and I don't appreciate you disrespecting her talent in such a way," I scowled at her.

She couldn't restrain her laughter as she looked to Daddy, "I thought you said this was normal."

"I said this was natural for us," Daddy argued, gesturing between the two of us.

"Should've taken the hint," Santana scoffed.

"I don't suppose you could think of a better movie-" before I even finished she was down the hall.

I heard the door slam shut before she returned a DVD case in hand.

When she handed it to me I read, "Million Dollar Baby?"

"Four academy awards," Daddy supplied, still not looking up from his phone.

I looked to him, obviously annoyed, "Really? I mean, Hilary Swank, Clint Eastwood, and Morgan Freeman are quite a cast but could some boxing movie really be that good."

"I have Girlfight if you'd prefer that," Santana offered snarkily.

"Rachel, take what you can get," Daddy warned, glancing up from his phone in amusement.

"Fine," I sighed, waiting for Santana to put it in.

}{

"Admit it," the taller girl urged from behind me.

"Admit what? That it had a slightly more developed plot than I was expecting? Fine. It did."

"Admit that you liked it," she pushed, "You cried. I saw it."

"Of course I did, the ending was sad, that doesn't mean the rest of the story could quite compare."

"You're just mad there was no singing," she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, "Singing is a very useful media for expressing emotions."

"And so is a good hit," she assured.

"That's terrible," I scowled.

"If someone hits you, you can pretty much tell their upset," she shrugged.

"You're terrible," I corrected.

"You'll learn to love me," she assured.

I was still scowling when we parted, making our ways to our own rooms, but I was a little overjoyed that she'd not only forgiven me, but thought of me as a friend. As I changed into pajamas and settled into my bed, I started thinking of her voice again. It was scratchy and rough, obviously abused by her smoking and lack of use and exercise, but somehow that made it better. The words of the song filled my thoughts for a moment and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe it sounded so nice because it had something to do with her.


	5. Supposed To Get Drunk

**A/N: Wanted to get this one out of the way as a little treat. Happy holidays all. Bet you guys can't guess what I'm going out as tonight.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

Cosette seemed to entirely have forgotten about my mention of Ramona when we got back to work. If anything she and Santana got along better after. I didn't really get to use my new status of "wingman" but I suppose that was for the best. I still wasn't thrilled to see them together, or whatever Santana called it, around the set but I sort of dealt with it as long as she wasn't upset with me. Really they acted more like kids than a couple, save for the make out sessions I'd walked in on; they spent more time hanging out around the set and bickering.

"Twizzlers," Santana scowled.

"Rolos," Cosette repeated, far more unconcerned with the argument than the Latina she currently sat on top of.

"Twizzlers are better," Santana went on, shifting on the couch.

"You two have had this argument for the last two days," I pointed out from the vanity.

"Well, if you're friend here would kindly admit that Rolos are a much better candy, we could settle this."

"I'll admit that the day Rachel gets over herself and gets lai-"

"Santana," I interrupted, flushing slightly. I stood up and went to them snatching the packages off of the tables to crack the roll of chocolates in half and pull out about half of the Twizzlers, tossing some to each girl, "Can you two please rot your teeth in silence now?"

"Someone's grumpy," Cosette pointed out.

"No, she just got her sweet tooth pulled as a child," Santana corrected past a mouthful of Rolos with a Twizzler hanging from between her lips.

Cosette snickered, "Maybe we should-"

"No," Santana cut her off.

"What?" I wondered.

"She could go with us tonight," the girl asked, looking down from her seat on Santana's stomach.

"No," the raven-haired girl repeated, "I was supposed to get drunk tonight."

"Really, Santana, smoking was bad enough, but underage drinking. Not only is it detrimental to your health, it's also illegal-"

'Right there," she interrupted, "I don't need to hear that all night."

"Rachel," Cosette started, finally getting off of Santana to come up to me, "If Santana lets you come with us, do you think, maybe, you could try to not act like a prude?"

I scowled at her before looking over to Santana. She was watching our interaction curiously and I couldn't help but wonder about the validity of the other girl's offer, "I can try."

Santana just relaxed back onto the couch, "It's up to Leroy."

"Yes," Cosette cheered, grinning broadly before leaning forward to pinch my cheek, "I get to dress both of you up."

"What?" I looked to Santana again although she just groaned and rolled her eyes.

"You'll see tonight when I come and pick you guys up," she left excitedly.

"Where's she going?" I asked Santana.

Santana just shrugged and popped a few more Rolos into her mouth, "Home, I guess."

"Shouldn't she finish the day?" I wondered.

"They're revising the script or something again, aren't they?" She asked.

"I suppose but-"

"So as long as you aren't falling down anymore stairs or anything, you'll see plenty of her tonight," she assured.

I nodded and noticed she was finished with her own Rolos and eating the ones Cosette had left behind, "I thought you didn't like Rolos."

She shook her head, "I do, just not more than Twizzlers."

I shook my head at her before going to the door and waiting for her to follow, after plenty of groaning and complaining.

I really wasn't needed for much more than trying on costumes. We went home quickly and Santana was glad to be in the presence of another Twizzler lover. Daddy and she had grown pretty comfortable, if not close in their time together. They both sat at the bar in the kitchen, discussing some sport or movie or show over her candy. It was kind of interesting to see them talking, Daddy over his laptop but still managing to take in every detail, and Santana seeming to enjoy the attention.

"Really? With your scores and apparent athleticism you never considered further education?" He asked, tilting his screen down.

She shook her head, "I sort of just knew what I wanted and college just doesn't seem to fit into it. Everything else was just to pass the time, and if I did well then so be it."

"Wish it could have been as easy for me," he chuckled and lifted the screen again, "So college will only happen if you get bored of this?"

She shook her head again, "I can't exactly just drop this, can I?"

"I suppose not," he agreed, "But I suppose I can't say I mind having you around. I mean I certainly couldn't help Rachel with her work."

"Daddy's better at English," I finally supplied, "Daddy's the one for math."

Santana looked down thoughtfully for a moment, "I'm pretty bad at History."

"Nobody uses it anyway," Daddy shrugged.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Oh," she seemed to remember something and looked to me, "Rachel, didn't you have something you wanted to ask?"

"Oh yes," I worried my lip slightly, "Daddy, I was wondering if I'd be able to go out with Santana and Cosette tonight?"

He looked at me curiously, "I really don't think it'd be fair to ask Santana to give up her night."

"She wouldn't have to watch me," I offered, "I'd be hanging out with them."

"Regardless-"

"I'd be watching her just as attentively," she supplied.

"Where exactly are you going?"

She shrugged, "Some dance club Cosette wants to go to."

"And you're alright with Rachel going?" He checked.

"We are friends," she nodded, "And I wouldn't let her out of my sight."

He looked between us for a moment longer before nodding, "I suppose, as long as you check in regularly."

I grinned broadly, before hugging him, "Thank you, Daddy. I promise I'll check in."

"But," he chuckled, "It'd probably be for the best if we didn't tell Dad about tonight."

"Alright," I nodded before kissing his cheek. I looked to Santana, "Do you know what time Cosette is getting here?"

"I don't know, maybe you should get some work done before we go."

"Will you help me?" I asked.

She shrugged and followed me out of the kitchen.

Daddy let Cosette in and she came to find us quickly. I couldn't help but peer over the laptop to the duffel bag in the girl's hands. She seemed to be taking in the scene before her as well. Santana pushed the laptop fully onto my lap and got off the bed, taking the bag to search through quickly. She scoffed as she looked through the clothes and when she deemed it safe she passed it indifferently back to Cosette.

"Well, now that my bag's been approved, let's get you two dressed," she started going through the bag, obviously annoyed that Santana's rifling had unfolded her clothes.

"What exactly did you bring?" I wondered, settling the computer on the bed before moving forward to peek into the bag.

She pulled out a couple of dresses of differing sizes, some skirts, blouses, and shoes, smirking as she did so, "The better question is what didn't I bring?"

"I'll leave you two to this," Santana mumbled and turned towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cosette asked accusingly.

"My room," the taller one stated.

"And do you plan on magically making a decent outfit appear?"

Santana looked down at her gray tank top and tight black jeans, "What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing," Cosette ceded, "If you plan to bore me to death."

"Well, what do you suggest?" San challenged.

Cosette separated two dresses, a pair of boots, and some heels before smirking, "I suggest you strip."

"What?" Santana and I both said in unison.

"I want to see how these two look on you," she reasoned.

"No," Santana shook her head.

Cosette just took the other girls spot on the bed, moving the computer out of her way, "We have all afternoon, Santana."

"Screw you," the raven-haired girl groaned, "Why can't you dress Rachel first?"

"Because my clothes will fit her," she explained, "She just needs to pick whereas I don't have as much in your size."

Santana scowled and moved towards the end of the bed looking over the dresses disdainfully; finally she took off her tank top. I'd seen her in her underwear before, considering it was how she usually slept, but I still couldn't ignore the subtle warmth in my cheeks before she tugged on the dress and mussed up her hair as she tugged it down revealing the Jolly Roger on the front. It barely reached mid thigh and with her jeans still on it didn't seem to matter.

"I think we've found a winner, but…" she trailed off before moving to the edge of the bed and reaching under the dress.

"What're you doing?" I asked, a bit uncomfortable as she began tugging at Santana's jeans.

"Trying to get these off," she ground out.

"It's a fucking t-shirt," Santana groaned, trying to push the other girl's hands away from her jeans.

"It's a dress San," Cosette urged, popping the button, "Just take them off."

"No."

The smaller girl looked back to me, not relenting her struggle, "Can you help?"

I just shrugged dumbly, "She doesn't exactly listen to me."

"Try," she encouraged.

"San, maybe you could just take them off," I mumbled, "The faster you get this over with the faster we can get the focus off of you."

She glared at both of us before batting Cosette's hands away, "Fine." She turned her back to us and pressed the dress down over her thighs before sliding the jeans down. She turned back to us looking fairly upset. It fit her just as tightly as one of her tank tops or t-shirts but it was just a bit longer.

"It looks nice," I offered.

"Give me the damn boots," she almost growled.

"You'll thank me later," Cosette chuckled before passing her the boots, "I'm almost positive you're my size."

"Whatever," she sat on the bed tugging on the shoes and mumbling insults.

"Now, are you going to be as much trouble?" Cosette asked as she turned back to me.

"I suppose not," I looked over the clothes. The other dress that had been offered to Santana wasn't exactly an option for me, but another black dress caught my eye. I reached for it and held it up to look at curiously.

"You two are so depressing," Cosette sighed, but tugged me to stand up and held the dress up.

"I think it looks suitable for a dance club without being overly exposing," I mentioned as she held the dress to me.

"You two look like you're going to a funeral," she mumbled, "But it's probably better than looking like a hipster biker or some Japanese business man's fetish."

"I do not-"

Santana interrupted, "Don't lie."

"Hipster biker," I stuck my tongue out.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," Cosette assured with a wink, "Now strip."

"What?"

"So you can try it on," she explained.

"Could you two, um," I let it trail off.

Santana came to my rescue, tugging Cosette's shoulder until they were both facing away from me.

"Thank you," I mumbled as I pulled my sweater off and checked that they weren't watching as I pulled the dress on and slid my skirt down. The dress came over my shoulders almost as sleeves but a corner reveled a bit of skin, "Um."

"Yes," Cosette approved, coming forward and pulling me into a hug.

"Now makeup," she started digging through her duffel bag again and pulled out some products.

"Fuck," Santana mumbled.

It wasn't nearly as bad as Santana made it seem. I was fairly used to having my makeup done. I'd have done it myself if Cosette hadn't insisted. Santana spent most of the procedure groaning and rolling her eyes. I'd just gotten a coat of concealer, some smoky eye-shadow, eyeliner, and a soft pink lip-gloss. Santana got a more natural look of concealor, blush and the same lip-gloss. When Cosette asked I admitted that I preferred Santana's hair wavy to straight so we avoided the hassle of flat-ironing it. Once Santana was in her boots and I in my heels Coesette deemed the two of us ready to leave.

"That's what you're wearing?" Daddy asked as we stopped in the kitchen.

"You don't like it?" I looked down nervously.

"I don't," Santana groaned.

"I do," he assured, "It's just pretty different for the two of you."

"I suppose so," I nodded, feeling a bit more self-conscious.

"You look wonderful sweetie," he complimented.

"I've been telling them both that, but they don't listen," Cosette rolled her eyes.

"They'll figure it out," he smiled before pulling out some cash to hand to me, "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"Is that a limit or a goal?" Santana joked.

"Point taken. Don't do anything you wouldn't want to tell Dad," he corrected.

"I'll try not to."

"I'll keep my eye on her," Santana offered as we finally moved to leave.

"It was nice meeting you," Cosette offered politely.

"You too," Daddy smiled.

We made our way to the garage. Cosette drove a fairly nice sports car. Santana climbed into the backseat and let me take the passenger seat. We listened to some rap song Cosette claimed would "get us in the mood for the night," and while I wasn't exactly thrilled about it, it was entertaining to see Santana mouthing along the words to it. Cosette was blaring the words along with it and tapping along and I couldn't help but wonder if that's what I looked like when Santana or my dads would let me do the same. A few rap and techno songs later and Cosette was parking up the street from a club blaring similar music. It was fairly well lit and there was a line a block long at the front.

"Come on," the girl waved us after her.

We followed her to the door where a man was deciding who got in by means of a velvet rope and an I.D. scanner. "I don't have my I.D. on me," I informed.

The girl waved me off but tugged Santana forward by her hand, "Just look sexy," she turned back to me, "Got it?"

I nodded and looked at her confused until she walked up to the man, leaning over one of the velvet ropes, "Hey, do you think my friends and I could get in?"

"Back of the line," the man waved her off, hardly looking up from his scanner and clipboard.

"You heard him," a few people jeered, urging us to go to the back.

"Aw come on, we got all dressed up for tonight, right San?" She looked back to Santana.

"Whatever," Santana shrugged, only to groan when Cosette kicked her shin, "Ugh, I mean yeah, all dressed up."

The man finally looked up to us; he opened his mouth, probably to tell us to move again but stopped.

"Please," Cosette let the sugar coat her voice as she pleaded.

"Fine," he grunted.

"Thank you!" Cosette cheered as he lifted the rope for us, much to the disapproval of the rest of the line.

"Wait, what about her?" He pointed to me.

"Um,"

"Is she even 18?" He asked skeptically.

"Of course," Cosette came behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I tried to look back to her but she was ushering me past the rope, "We're twins, can't you see the resemblance?"

He examined us for a second before waving us on, "Whatever."

I followed the two girls into the club and Cosette decided to lead us through the mass of people on the dance floor, her hands slipped away from my waist and onto my hand. I felt Santana's hand grasp my other and soon we were in the middle of the living mass. It was almost claustrophobic to feel so many people surrounding me and the music drowned out almost any other sound. I almost worried when Santana's hand slipped out of mine but I watched her move past me, being pushed and pulled with the other dancers. I was a little surprised to watch her pull the girl tightly against her, and when I expected to see her kiss the girl she mumbled, or maybe yelled, something into her ear. The other girl nodded and let go of my hand as Santana took it. Soon she was against me in a similar manner. I knew I was blushing but I was glad she couldn't see in the lighting.

I shivered as I felt her breath on my ear but listened as she spoke, "Let's go sit down."

I nodded and followed her. Cosette had quickly gotten lost in the crowd, but Santana led me to a series of tables and booths just off the side of the dance floor. The speakers were directed away from this area, but as I slid into the booth Santana pointed out, we still sat fairly close to make sure we could hear each other, "Is she going to be okay?"

She shrugged slightly, "Probably."

"You didn't want to dance?" I wondered.

"I'll get to it," she assured, "I just wanted to lay down some rules first."

"Rules?"

"Don't drink anything somebody hands you," she started, "Unless you see them get it from the bartender."

"But I don't-"

"You also don't smoke, right?"

I nodded, "Fine."

"If you can't see me, I can't see you, so make sure you can see me."

"Alright."

"If you do decide you want to drink make sure I know, because I don't see Cosette being any kind of help."

"I won-"

"Just keep it in mind. Lastly is the golden rule," she waved her fingers lazily.

"Golden rule?" I repeated.

"We come together, we leave together, so get all your dancing and making out done here," she pointed to the table.

I wanted to argue that I had no intention of making out with anyone but Cosette came up with a tray of small glasses, announcing, "Shots!"

"You're driving," Santana reminded, dividing the shots between us.

"What? Why?" She whined, trying to steal one of Santana's shots.

"Because Rachel doesn't know how and you're the adult," she almost scoffed as she said it.

"Why can't you drive?" She asked, finally getting one of my shots.

"Because I'm already drinking," she answered, doing two shots before Cosette had a chance to complain.

"You suck," the girl whined.

"Yeah," Santana nodded, working on her third shot.

"What're those for?" I asked, pointing to the salt packets and bowl of limes.

"Have you ever had tequila before?" She asked.

I shook my head curiously.

She smirked and started a series of motions, "We're going to do shots then!"

"Whoo!" Cosette cheered, forgetting her past displeasure.

Santana took my hand and pointed to the patch of skin between my thumb and forefinger, "Lick there." When I did she sprinkled some salt and gave me a slice of lime to hold. She slipped a shot glass into my other hand before repeating the process on herself. "When I say go, breathe out, shoot it, lick the salt, suck the lime, and breathe in. Got it?"

"Um…"

"Good," she held up her glass and I clinked mine against it as she said, "To safe driving!"

Cosette glared at her.

"Go," Santana announced and I followed her instructions, breathing out, shooting the drink, breathing in, gasping, licking the salt, sucking the lime, and coughing. I may have added some extra steps. She rubbed my back gently as she laughed.

"That was terrible," I whined.

"It's an acquired taste," she laughed before looking to the other laughing girl, "Can you go get her something easier?"

When Cosette's laughter finally receded she went to get the drink.

"How do you drink that?" I asked, still feeling the burn in my throat.

Santana was finishing the last couple shots already and shrugged, "Got used to 'em."

"You aren't even old enough to drink," I pointed out.

She was quick to correct me, "Legally. Which is why Cosette is buying."

I shook my head slightly, "That's inappropriate."

"You weren't saying that when you were tossing back that shot," she smirked, far more playfully than I'd seen yet.

"Well, with you barking out orders how could I say no?"

She laughed, "That's the only one I'm taking the blame for."

I looked up as Cosette came back, two bottles in hand and passed them to us.

"Lemonade? While it's probably more appropriate for our age group isn't it a bit out of place in a club?"

Santana was just smirking as she sipped hers, "Probably."

I drank mine quickly, enjoying the taste.

"Hurry up," Cosette whined, "You promised you'd dance with me, San."

"I will," she nodded, her shoulders far more relaxed than they'd been when we arrived.

I finished my lemonade quickly and Santana was kind enough to let me finish hers, but she just kept smirking at me as I did. Finally, Cosette dragged her out of the booth although she stumbled a bit. I followed closely, taking Santana's hand as they lead me back onto the dance floor. Santana had definitely grown more uninhibited since we'd arrived; her posture wasn't as stiff as it usually was and she was obviously relaxing. When we'd apparently reached a suitable spot amidst the thrashing bodies surrounding us Cosette turned and slid her arms around Santana's neck and the taller girl placed her free hand on her hip. I felt as if I were intruding on something intimate as I watched them move and gyrate so closely together but I couldn't exactly look away. Santana's hand was still loosely clutching mine as she bent it behind her back.

I hated the music, the people moving around us made me anxious, and I felt a bit out of sorts, but I couldn't help but wonder if maybe I'd enjoy this place a bit more if I were in Cosettes position. That thought was clouded over as she drew Santana down and into a less than gentle kiss. I didn't think it was possible for them to get any closer but they managed it as they kept moving to the obnoxious rhythm. I considered going back to the table, wanting to give Santana some time with Cosette sans the bickering, but as soon as my fingers slipped from between hers she turned around, forgetting about the girl before her. She grabbed my hand and moved to the girl, saying something. She pouted and nodded before getting lost in the crowd again.

Santana turned back to me and pulled me into that odd embrace, "Dance with me."

I nodded as she pulled back although I wasn't entirely sure how to dance in that situation without copying the grinding motions of Cosette.

"Follow me," she urged, pulling my hands onto her shoulders and placing hers on my hips. One of her feet rested between mine and her knees bent slightly between my thighs. I couldn't help but look down and watch as her hips twisted to the music. I tried to follow and she urged me with her hands. I was still watching our joined hips, legs, and feet when she leaned forward and asked, "Having fun yet?"

I nodded and tried to reach her, "Won't Cosette be mad?"

She shook her head, "About what?"

"Us being so, um, close?"

She laughed and shook her head, "I'm sure she's found a new dance partner."

I was right. This was almost enjoyable with Santana, although an afterthought occurred. Would it be as nice with another partner?

"Jump."

"What?"

"Now," she prompted as the beat to the song changed and she was grinning, more space between us than before as she bounced up and down on her toes, her fist pumping in the air with the music.

I couldn't fight the urge to laugh as I followed her.

}{

Cosette really had found another dance partner. The next time we saw her, we got a glimpse of her with her back pressed to a man's chest as she, practically, slithered down his body. Santana shrugged it off as she continued dancing with me. A slower song came on, well, a slower techno song. I'd gotten a little more used to dancing with Santana, but as the song started she moved behind me and slipped one arm around my waist with the other slightly over my shoulder. We were still moving the same way but it was odd to have her behind me. I leaned my head back and turned slightly to see her.

"You want to go sit down?" She asked, her smile soft.

I shook my head.

"You want to dance with Cosette?"

It would have been a good opportunity to test my theory, but I was more than content to dance with Santana.

I felt the shake of her chest as she laughed, "Do you want something or do you just plan on staring the rest of the night?"

I blushed slightly, "I haven't ruined your night have I?"

"Of course not," she grew confused, "Why would you say that?"

"Because you wanted to drink more and maybe go home with Cosette," I reasoned.

I felt her shrug, "I drank plenty and I can settle for dancing with you."

"That was almost a compliment," I pointed out.

"And you're almost a good dance partner," she teased.

"My teacher wasn't all that," I countered.

"Really now?" She turned me around again and her hands were on my shoulder this time and her movements were far more intricate, her torso and hips pressing against me as she moved down my body as Cosette had just been doing to her current dance partner. When Santana came back up I knew she couldn't see it, but it was as if she knew I was blushing furiously. She was smirking mischievously as she pulled me into a far more innocent hug, "I'm sorry. That might have been a bit much for you."

I wasn't sure what to say. I probably couldn't have if I wanted to.

She pulled away slightly and I saw Cosette running her fingers down Santana's arm and onto her hip. She was asking her something and they both looked to me for a moment before Santana pushed her towards me, "Dance with each other, I'm going to go let your dad know you're still alive."

I watched her vanish into the crowd before I felt Cosette replace her. Her arms were around my neck and I let my hands fall to her hips as she started the same motions Santana and I had just been in the middle of. "So, has she been showin' you a better time than she has me?" Her words slurred slightly.

"I've enjoyed dancing with her," I supplied.

"Sure she's been havin' a good time too," she nodded; letting her hands move a lot more freely than Santana's had. I felt fingers brushing up and down the back of my neck and her forearm rest on my shoulder.

"I'd hope so," I tried to move away from the slight touches but it brought me closer to her and I wasn't sure that's where I wanted to be.

She licked her lips slightly, "She likes dancin' with you more."

"I doubt that," I shrugged, "You seem to be a far more enthusiastic partner."

She laughed at that, "And you're like a board."

I pulled away a bit, watching her curiously.

"I bet we could give her a show," she mentioned, and then nodded, agreeing with herself, "She'd like that."

"A show?" I wondered.

"Just follow my lead when she gets back," she ordered.

I nodded dumbly and as we continued dancing. She rambled on more about Santana, dancing with different partners, the music, and lemonade until the raven-haired girl found us once more.

"You okay?" She asked me as she moved to our side.

"Yes," I answered although it might have been too soon.

Cosette leaned in as well and asked, "Ready?"

"I suppose," I nodded and before I realized what she was doing; Cosette was pulling me against her just as she had Santana.

There was a moment when I wasn't sure what to do. Her lips were firm against mine and she wasn't exactly my first kiss but as her tongue brushed against my lips it spurred me on to push her back. My hands moved from her hips to her chest and I had to force her back away from me, but her stunt career assured she was stronger. An arm slipped around my waist and Santana moved between us. She was holding the girl off as she grew frustrated. Finally she leaned down and sniffed her breath, irritation coating her face as she started yelling. I couldn't hear it all but words like drunk, stupid, driving, and even my name came up a few times.

Santana was dragging us both outside, the night was obviously over. Cosette seemed confused and upset as she stumbled behind Santana, who'd sobered more, taking up her usual serious nature again. She took the girl's keys, ignoring her protests as she gripped and tugged her arm, trying to get them back, and then called a cab. She gave back her house key while we waited for the cab and Santana urged her into the car, convincing her to tell the driver her address and paying beforehand.

"Are you alright?" Santana asked, finally paying attention to me again.

"I was fine, really," I assured.

"She was drunk," she sounded irritated.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your night," I apologized.

She shook her head furiously, "You didn't, and I should have been paying more attention."

"She'll get home alright, won't she?"

"Yeah, I'll call her in the morning; I have to get her car anyway."

She called a cab for us next and helped me into the back. She gave the address and as soon as she leaned back in her seat I had my head on her forehead as my weariness from the night caught up with me. I hadn't realized how much dancing so much had taken out of me but Santana didn't voice any complaints. I didn't even realize we'd gotten home until I was jostled slightly. I could hear Santana laughing slightly as she reached up to palm my cheek.

"You aren't dead are you? Just sleeping?"

"Sleeping," I repeated the word, nuzzling her shoulder slightly and groaning when she pulled away.

"Relax," she encouraged as I felt her arms slip behind my back and under my legs. She closed the door somehow and I heard it drive away before she carried me inside. I slipped my arms around her neck.

"I think she was jealous," I mumbled into Santana's shoulder.

She carried me a bit longer, "Hmm?"

"She wanted to give you a "Show,"" I mumbled.

"I got one," she chuckled as I heard the front door open.

"San?"

I heard the pad of her footsteps on the carpet beneath us, "Yeah."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

I couldn't tell which door she'd turned when she laid me onto a bed, "I guess."

I curled into myself as I heard her moving around, out, then into the room again.

She started taking off my shoes, "Rach, you want to put on some pajamas?"

"No," I shook my head into her pillows.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh."

"Alright," I heard her shuffling slightly before I felt her slip into the bed next to me, pulling the blanket from under me and then over us.

I felt less restricted for some reason. I might have normally been uncomfortable, but thinking back to our way in the apartment I wanted to be closer to her. I scooted closer, resting my head on her shoulder, "Thank you for taking me, San."

She didn't respond, so I listened for some sign that she'd fallen asleep. Her breath was far too even already and eventually that lulled me into my own slumber.


	6. By That Logic She'd Have To Marry Me

**A/N: Checky checky and be pleased. This should answer some of your questions. I've had it on my mind for a minute. Hope you guys enjoy. Remember I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

I was surprised to have woken up before Santana. I'd grown used to her being the one to wake me up. Sometime during the night her arm found its way around my shoulder and mine slipped over her torso. I watched her for a moment before I realized how oddly close this position was. I pulled back carefully, trying not to wake her up and felt a lot more than surprise. My head throbbed slightly and I fell back against her. The girl against me woke with a loud groan.

"Oh my god, what are you doing up?" She groaned loudly, pulling her hands up to rub her eyes.

I closed my eyes too, "I don't know."

"Shouldn't have drank," she whined.

"But I didn't," I pointed out, opening my eyes slowly this time.

"Are you kidding me? You knocked back those lemonades like you'd never had a drink before," she scoffed.

I shook my head, "I haven't. What's wrong with lemonade?"

She didn't say anything for a moment and I almost thought she'd fallen back asleep before a smirk tugged at her lips, "Hard Lemonade." She pulled down her hands and looked at me.

"What?"

"Welcome to the wonderful world of alcohol," she teased, nudging me slightly.

"What?" I asked again, growing panicked.

"Calm down," she urged, "It's just a hangover, some water and Advil will clear it up."

"But I've never-" I shook my head, until the ache grew worse.

"You'll be fine," she assured her smirk relaxing to a more calming smile. She pulled away and sat up slowly, moaning in discomfort as she stretched. I finally took notice of the fact that she was almost naked save for her underwear and bra. I couldn't draw my eyes away from the defined lines of her muscles. When she turned around a yawn kept her from catching me, "Come on, food will help." She held out her hand for me.

I took the offered hand and let her pull me up, "How do you do that?"

"What?" She asked as she pulled a hooded jacket and exercise shorts from her drawer.

"Just bare yourself like that? I mean even the first time we stayed together in the hotel room."

She shrugged as she pulled on the shirts and slipped the jacket over her shoulders, "I don't like pajamas and I'm not exactly ashamed of this," she waved a hand over the open front of her jacket. "People put too much hype into seeing someone naked, and that's what makes it seem so bad."

I tried not to stare as she explained, "It just seems odd."

"Says the girl who woke up in my bed in last night's dress," she pinched the dress between her fingers and smirked at me.

"I wasn't exactly in any position to change since you decided that allowing me to become inebriated without my knowledge was a good idea."

She turned around and pinched my cheek, "It's too early for big words. Cool it or I'll put butter and milk in your oatmeal.

I crossed my arms and scowled at her, "You wouldn't."

"Watch me," she challenged before zipping up her jacket and going out the door.

"San," I whined slightly.

"Just put on some pajamas," she encouraged, heading to the kitchen.

}{

When I got to the kitchen Santana was mixing a pot on the stove. I leaned on the counter next to her to watch. She turned off the stove quickly before moving the pot over some empty bowls and tipping it to pour the lumpy mixture into them. Steam rose from the bowls as she scraped the remnants of the dish out. She dropped it into the sink and ran some water before holding out a bowl to me.

When I reached for the bowl she pulled it back before warning, "It's hot."

"I realize that Santana; I'm not a child," I glared before taking the bowl in my hands rather than by the rim as she'd held it.

She watched as I rolled my fingers over the bowl refusing to admit that it was so hot, "Think you might want that milk now?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Have fun then," she grabbed the milk and butter from the counter, adding them to her bowl before mixing it thoroughly. She lifted a spoonful to her lips and blew it gently before eating it.

My bowl, however, was far too hot to even think of eating yet, and all I could do was sit it on the counter.

"Want to go with me?" She asked before blowing another spoonful.

"Where?"

"I have to get Cosette's car and take it back to her place," her demeanor seemed to change at the mention of the other girl.

I nodded, pulling my bowl forward and mimicking her motions, "Alright."

"She owes you an apology anyway," she pointed out.

I hesitantly tasted the oatmeal, trying not to cry as the hot food met my tongue, "She really doesn't." The words came with a slight lisp as I brought my hand to my mouth.

Santana fought a smile as she continued eating, "She does. She wasn't supposed to be drinking to begin with but she really shouldn't have been all over you like that."

"It was fine," I shrugged it off, "If I hadn't gone you two could have danced and she wouldn't have put forth so much effort to impress you."

She scoffed at that, "She has enough alcohol at her place to knock out an elephant; I would have gone home with her anyway after we dropped you off."

"Oh," I tried to keep the dejection out of my voice.

She went to the fridge and pulled out the soy milk before tipping it into my bowl for me, "I could have come back to make you breakfast though."

"I'm not interrupting anything by going with you today, am I?"

She shook her head, "No, not really."

"Alright," I mixed my bowl, glad that I could finally eat it.

}{

We left Daddy a note, letting him know where we were going. After getting dressed, in a skirt and t-shirt, Santana led me out of the building. We made our way to the street and settled on a bench at a bus stop. She ignored my announcements that this could have been made a great deal easier if she'd just teach me how to drive. When the bus came she was surprised to know that I actually knew how to ride, but let me lead her to some seats in the back. We rode around like that, switching to a couple of different busses before we finally got there. I almost missed it, but Santana recognized the club almost instantly in the daylight.

"It's not nearly as exciting now," she pointed out. The lights and music were gone now, all that remained were garbage lined streets and what looked like a wig that had exploded and been scattered.

"I suppose not."

We found the car and slipped in quickly, "So, we haven't totally turned you off from clubs, have we?"

"Not entirely, I just might prefer to order my own drinks from now on," I pulled my seatbelt on.

She laughed, "Would you like to pick your own dance partners too?"

I smiled, "I liked dancing with you."

"I know," she grinned cockily, "I mean, how can you not like dancing with me?"

"Well, not everybody's a big fan of being treated like a stripper pole, but I suppose I can see the appeal."

She laughed slightly and brought her right hand to her chest, "Ouch, Rach. A stripper pole, really? From what I saw you were enjoying it."

I blushed at that and tried to look out the window, "What could I have done? My options consisted of letting you gyrate, practically, on top of me or let Cosette assault me."

"Here I was thinking you were walking the straight and narrow and the whole time you've just been in Narnia," she laughed as she turned into a residential complex.

"Narnia?" I wondered. We drove around for a few moments before she pulled into a parking space and it hit me, "Santana Lopez! I am not a closeted homosexual!"

She couldn't restrain her laughter as she shut off the car and leaned back in her seat, "You make it seem like a bad thing, but I guess that's really how you feel."

"That's not-" I scowled at her, "You know perfectly well that that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?" She urged.

"Obviously, you know that I am a very big supporter of homosexuality, however, I've found that a particular lesbian is getting on my nerves."

That sobered and her laughter calmed, she looked to me and made a face as if I'd just called her by the wrong name, "I'm not a lesbian."

"What would you describe yourself as then?" I wondered, curiosity overtaking my annoyance.

She thought for a moment before turning to me and saying, with a straight face, "I am sex on legs."

I stared at her, waiting for the confirmation that she was joking or something. "I was hoping for a serious answer."

"I'm serious," her grin softened, "I don't like being labeled."

"What exactly do you like then?"

She didn't need very long to think about it, "Sex. Men, women, hell, I've had dreams about making out with a shrub just because it was shaped like a person."

"That's," I blushed at the thought of that, "Interesting."

"If that's what you'd want to call it." She shrugged, finally getting out of the car. I followed her to some cement stairs as she asked, "What about you, since we're playing twenty questions, what would you call yourself?"

I thought about it for a moment, "Curious, I suppose."

She scoffed at that, "There was nothing curious about the way you were dancing."

My face flushed a furious red, "I was simply following your lead. While I have had the traditional fantasies of a husband and children, I can also appreciate the sensitivity and beauty of most women."

"I can get that," she nodded. We made our way past a few more doors before she finally stopped and knocked at one.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" I asked when nobody answered.

"Mhum," she hummed, knocking again, harder.

We both stared at the door for a moment. I was going to suggest she call the girl when I heard a thump on the wall and it finally cracked open, but only as far as the chain would allow. The bleary eyed brunette who'd answered groaned, "Why the fuck are you beating my door like that?"

"We thought we'd stop by and surprise you," Santana deadpanned.

She scowled from the spot where her head met the doorframe.

"No," Santana shook her head, "We really came to make sure you didn't sleep with the cab driver, now let us in so I can inspect the place."

"Santana!" I scolded, elbowing her slightly before looking back to the girl apologetically, "We came to bring your car back."

"That too," Santana agreed.

Cosette looked to be considering slamming the door in our faces, and I wasn't the least bit surprised when she actually did. I was, however, surprised to hear the chain on the door slide and see her let the door open further as she walked into the darkly lit apartment. She wasn't wearing much more than Santana had been when we woke up.

Santana urged me in and pulled the door shut behind us. While I stood awkwardly she sat on a couch to our side, "You got home alright?"

"I'm alive aren't I?" She called from a back room.

Santana smirked slightly and lifted her feet up onto the coffee table, "You don't exactly look it."

I sat next to her, glaring at her as she went on.

"Because you look like sunshine and sugar cookies," the shorter girl snarked, coming back into the room with a bottle in hand as she zipped up a hoodie that reached the middle of her thighs. She lifted her leg to kick Santana's feet off of her table before sitting on a giant comfortable looking armchair.

"Should you really be drinking?" I asked, looking to the dark brown bottle.

"Hair of the dog that bit you," she mumbled past the bottle.

I looked to Santana for some explanation, "It helps the hangover."

"Wouldn't you still be drunk?"

They looked between each other for a moment before Cosette shrugged, "I have a weekend to kill."

"I think I'll grab something too," Santana mumbled before standing up.

"Should you really be drinking so early?" I asked her.

"We're taking the bus home," she pointed out.

"You know where everything is," Cosette waved.

Santana leaned down at her chair and whispered something to her. I couldn't make out any words but her tone definitely sounded harsh.

Cosette pulled back from her, looking annoyed, even as she finally went on to the kitchen.

I was curious what she'd said but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Sorry, or whatever," she finally mumbled when it'd grown too awkward.

"You don't have to apologize," I assured.

She shrugged, "I kind of do. I wasn't supposed to get drunk or maul you."

"You didn't-"

She cut me off, "Santana's a bitch sometimes, but she hasn't lied to me yet."

"I am not a bitch," Santana came back with some bottles in hand. She handed Cosette another brown one and sat back on the couch with her own, before handing me a water bottle.

"Fine," Cosette finished her first bottle and placed it on the coffee table, "Bitchily honest."

The raven-haired girl looked like she wanted to argue but shrugged, "I'll give you that."

"But, I am sorry, I should have been the adult in that situation," she shrugged and nursed her newest bottle, "and, like, not started acting weird."

"She's a fun drunk if you're into that," Santana pointed out.

"At least I don't start bawling. "Stop dancing with him like that. You think he's prettier than me, don't you? I saw the way you were staring at his ass!" Or does Rachel not know about that?" She mocked the girl.

Santana had to bring her hand up to her mouth as she choked on her beer, glaring daggers at the other girl.

"It's not as funny now, is it?" She pressed.

"She really said that?" I asked, amused as I looked to the girl.

"Mhum," Cosette nodded, "It was pretty cute."

I laughed loudly, "I really wish I could see that."

"Whatever. Fuck both of you," Santana scowled, "Are you two just going to gang up on me or are we doing something?"

Cosette looked around the room for something before nodding towards the television, "Xbox?"

"Mortal Kombat?" Santana asked.

"Duh," Cosette finally stood up and went to turn the television on.

I just sat on the couch and watch them set the whole thing up; as if this was something they did regularly.

}{

At some point during the following two hours, we all ended up on the floor in front of the television. I was on the floor with Santana sitting closely behind me and her arms around my own as she barked orders and cheers at me and offered Cosette insults of her own. Cosette sat next to us cross-legged as she continued mashing buttons furiously. Somehow they'd gotten me to join in on playing their vile game, and I found myself enjoying it. Santana had long ago stopped instructing me on the game but she'd never actually moved away from me. I didn't notice until the last time I killed Cosette's character how much I enjoyed her presence.

"Alright, she's got this down, we're going by losses now," Santana held out her hand and waved to the other girl.

"What? No," Cosette groaned.

"Hand it over," Santana smirked and took the remote, moving in front of the girl and laying between her outstretched legs with.

"What do you mean by losses?" I asked, looking them over.

"If you lose you hand over the controller," Cosette grumbled.

"Meaning, you'll be handing over soon," She assured.

I scoffed at that, and looked over to their stairs as they both went silent, "What?"

"Oh my god you broke her," Cosette groaned

"I didn't break her," San argued.

"She used to be nice, then you went and ruined her and now she's all cocky," she pointed to me.

"She can hear you," I reminded.

"Maybe you're right," San grinned up at me, "But I can knock her down a peg or two."

"We'll see," Cosette shrugged.

After her first few wins against me and Cosette, Santana started letting me win. I could tell when she just yawned at her losses instead of scowling like she did when Cosette beat her, the few times it happened. When we all got bored, rather than wanting to teach me a new game we decided on a movie. They settled on some action movie. Cosette dragged Santana to the couch with a large blanket and gave me a throw to use while I took the large armchair. I did my best to ignore the subtle motions of the other girls' blanket, Cosette's giggles, and Santana's lax attempts to get the brunette to stop whatever it was that she was doing. I didn't have to ignore it the whole movie, just until they started arguing.

"That was so fake," Santana mumbled after a questionable jump on the characters part.

Cosette scoffed, "No it wasn't."

"How the hell can anybody survive that?"

"Easy, you just have to shift you're weight right."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Oh, you mean so your leg is broken beyond repair, or you know, your back."

"I do it for a living, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm talking about," she paused the movie, sitting up a bit more.

"Well, I'm sure you've hit your head enough times to think you do," Santana challenged, sitting up as well.

"I can fucking show you," Cosette declared, getting up and tugging the coffee table from the middle of the room.

"Do it," Santana urged.

"Wait, do you two really think this is the best idea, I mean, Cosette, obviously you'd know something about your own profession," she gave Santana a smug look, "but it's highly unlikely that you could really get out of that situation unharmed in anyway." It was Santana's turn to smirk. "Besides, you couldn't actually repeat that in here."

They looked between each other for a moment before turning towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked them both.

"We're on the second floor, it's good enough," Cosette reasoned.

"What? No! I didn't mean go outside," I tried to grab her jacket to keep her from getting to the door.

"The table isn't high enough."

"Can we finish the movie before either of you two try to kill yourselves?" I pleaded.

Santana shrugged and headed back to the couch, "I was just going to watch."

I couldn't help but gape at her as she sprawled out on the couch.

Cosette stormed over to her chair and started the movie again.

I looked between them for some sign as to where I was supposed to sit and finally settled in front of the couch, sitting with my legs crossed. Through the rest of the movie I had to listen to them grumbling and scowling at each other. We sat through another, a comedy this time that prompted less argument. Santana fell asleep about half-way through, and I couldn't help but be lulled toward my own slumber at the gentle sound of her breathing, but at Cosette's urging I followed her into the kitchen.

"You two staying for dinner? I can drive you home after," she offered.

"Is it really that late?" I asked, looking out of the kitchen to the sleeping girl.

"It's the dark; it messes up your sense of time," she explained.

I tilted my head curiously, "Why do you keep it so dark?"

She shrugged as she scrolled through the contacts of her phone, "Aside from distaste for the sun? Light isn't the most welcome thing with a hangover."

I nodded, thinking back to the throbbing of this morning. "I suppose Santana and I could stay."

"Chinese fine?" At my nod she hit the call button, "What do you want?"

"I'll just have Santana's side."

"Don't be stupid, she's paying, get whatever you want."

I quirked a curious eyebrow but nodded, "Sweet and sour tofu with vegetables and spring rolls."

She nodded repeated the order before taking on hers and what I assumed was Santana's. When she finished she hung up and rolled her neck, rubbing it slightly.

"How long have you two known each other?" She wondered.

"Only a few months," I offered.

She looked to me as if she'd expected a different answer, "I'd have guessed a lot longer."

"Why?"

"I don't know; you two just seem so relaxed around each other."

I shook my head, "Hardly. She's far more relaxed around you."

She made a face at that and shook her head, "She's not relaxed, just less on edge. This is the first time she's slept here."

"But she stays the night here all the time," I thought back to the times I wouldn't see her until the next morning.

"We don't sleep," she had a slight smirk on her face, "and she makes me drop her back off at your place on my way to the gym."

I felt guilt welling up as I looked at her, "I'm sorry she does that but she's not exactly looking for a significant other, and she may be a bit more than blunt about that. You really do seem like somebody who'd be good for her but she just doesn't seem willing to commit."

She laughed slightly and shook her head, "I don't care. She comes around for sex, I keep her around for company; it's a fair trade off."

"Oh."

"She doesn't really let anyone near her, just close enough," she went on.

"Well, you-"

She shook her head again, "You. She's a lot closer with you."

"Not really," I shrugged.

"Trust me," she assured.

"Well-"

"Who let me fall asleep?" Santana groaned from the doorway as she rubbed her eyes with her fists.

"Do I ever let you fall asleep?" Cosette asked jesting replacing the more serious tone she'd had before.

Santana came to lean against the counter next to me and nudged me with her elbow, "Should have woken me up."

"I'll keep that in mind next time," I nudged her back.

Cosette passed us on the way out of the kitchen, "By the way San, thanks for dinner."

"What?" The girl asked confused.

"Dinner's on you," I explained.

"Damn," she groaned, "I probably should have been awake when this decision was made."

"Probably," I shrugged.

She made her way out of the kitchen and went down the hall to Cosette's room.

I went to the living room to sit on the couch as I waited for them to return. I could hear the soft murmur of their voices in the back. I sat there, trying to make out their conversation until a knock came to the door. They came up front, and opened the door. Cosette leaning nearby while Santana paid for the food. The brunette took the food while Santana moved the coffee table back to its original position. Santana was about to stand up when Cosette bumped the Latina with her hip, sending her sprawling over me.

"What the hell," Santana murmured as she got up on her hands, although she was still leaning over me.

"You were in my way," the smaller girl gave a cheeky grin as she placed the big paper bag on the table.

"Whatever," Santana groaned as she situated herself so she was lying next to me.

I felt my cheeks flush as she landed on me and then moved to lie next to me, there was far less room on the couch than mine or Santana's bed but she didn't seem to mind.

"What'd you get me?" Santana asked as she held up her hand waving the bag over.

"Nothing, you're stuck with whatever she decides to share," she pointed to me with her fork before passing us the bag.

It was far too heavy to be just for me but Santana still scowled, "I can't just eat rabbit food."

"I don't eat rabbit food," I argued.

She snatched the receipt from the bag and read it over, "Spring rolls are made out of…"

"Vegetables," I answered.

"Exactly."

"That doesn't prove anythi-"

"It proves everything, Rachel," she pulled out two plastic containers and read the sharpie scrawl on the side before handing me my deep-fried tofu.

I stared at her for a moment before asking, "What?"

"It doesn't matter," she mumbled past a mouthful of chicken.

"Just go with it," Cosette suggested.

"Alright," I reached into the bag for the sweet and sour sauce.

Santana ended up stealing one of my spring rolls and denying it. Cosette had a knowing smirk when I caught her eye. Eventually she did take us home. I took the backseat while Santana sat shotgun. They bickered over the radio station for a while; Cosette opting for techno while Santana would gladly listen to anything but. Eventually, they found a pop station with some sort of mix going on. Cosette found the apartment building with ease and that's when I started to notice how distant Santana really was.

Cosette leaned forward to kiss her only for Santana to turn her cheek, "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Bye," I waved to her as I got out.

"Yeah," Santana mumbled as she followed.

}{

We headed into the building together and when we got to the apartment we found a note from Daddy. He'd gone out for his own dinner and once more, reminding me to call Dad. Santana headed to her room while I went and got my computer. I settle on the couch and turned on the laptop while I dialed Dad's number and put the phone on speaker. Distantly, I heard the shower start. I was opening up my assignments when Dad answered.  
>"Hello," I could hear the clicking of his own computer in the background.<p>

"Hey Dad, how're you doing?" I began a math assignment.

The sound of typing paused, "I'm fine sweetie, how about you and Daddy?"

"We're fine."

"How's work?"

"It's been fine, the movie's coming along alright; I wish you could read the script."

"I can wait until it comes out," he chuckled, "We can all watch it together."

The shower shut off.

"That'll be perfect," I smiled to myself.

"Until then, have you given any thought to that break you have coming up?"

I gave up on a particularly hard problem, hoping Santana could help me later, "I wouldn't mind going."

"You haven't seen Uncle James and your cousin Matt in ages," he pointed out.

"I know, but it just doesn't seem fair to uproot Santana like this and drag her across the country, and besides, it's only three weeks."

He groaned loudly at the mention of the girl, "Rachel, it's bad enough you insist on continuing this charade of her protecting you in some way, but now you're letting her influence your vacation time?"

Santana came into the living room, and fell onto the couch, holding her hand out for the laptop.

"I'm not letting her influence it, I'm taking her into consideration," she gave me a questioning look as I handed over the computer.

"Take into consideration the fact that she should have known, coming into this profession, that she'd be traveling. You have a career to worry about and as far as she's concerned, anywhere you decide you go, even just on a whim, she should consider it her responsibility to be there," he sounded more like he was trying to convince me, "Unless she isn't up for it."

"I am, sir." She mumbled, not looking up from the computer, "Anywhere Rachel goes I'm sure to be within shouting distance, even if I have to do it on my own dollar."

I wasn't sure what to say about that.

"I'm sure," he mumbled skeptically. "Rachel, I have to go, I'll call you later. Just think about that trip."

"Yes, Dad. I love you."

"Love you too sweetie."

"Bye Mr. Berry," Santana almost sing-songed.

Dad didn't reply so much as he groaned before the line went dead.

"So, where are we going?" She asked.

I looked up to her, "Um, Dad and Daddy were thinking of going to Ohio. We have some family there so we'd be staying with them."

"Ohio," she mumbled the word as if she were testing the sound of it.

"Do you have something against Ohio?"

She shook her head moving closer to me with the laptop still on her lap, "No, it's just not my choice destination since it's on my dollar."

"We aren't actually going to make you pay," I assured.

"I'd pay for Hawaii," she mentioned. "Hell, I'd have paid to come here, but Ohio," she said it like one would speak about spiders.

"Glad to see you're so excited about it," I looked to the computer on her lap; she'd already finished the assignment, even the problem I couldn't.

"Who wouldn't be?" She asked sarcastically.

I shoved her playfully before starting a new assignment, "So you really don't mind."

"Doesn't matter if I mind," she shrugged, pointing out an answer, "Wherever you go, I go."

We finished a couple more math assignments before moving on to English. We were in the middle of one when Daddy came in. "Bye, love." He grinned as he saw us, "So we're going?" He looked to me hopefully.

"I'd love to go see everyone in Ohio."

"Good," he beamed as he fell onto the couch next to us, "Because it would have been terrible to go without you."

"What?" My jaw dropped slightly.

He shrugged and looked over my work, or I suppose Santana's at this point, "You two would have been fine to stay on your own and I want to see my brother."

"You'd have just left me?"

He nodded, "Yeah. You two are old enough to stay on your own."

"Yeah, Rach," Santana gave a cocky grin.

"I'm starting to see why dad doesn't like you," I shoved her.

"I still don't see it," he pointed out before hugging the girl, "If anything, I'm hoping her and Matt hit it off. It'll be great if she marries into the family."

"By that logic she'd have to marry me," I pointed out.

"I'd approve," he mumbled.

As my jaw dropped for the second time Santana mentioned, "We've had this discussion Rachel. I swing either way for the right price."

Daddy laughed ridiculously loud at that.

I couldn't help but stare at the two of them while they continued joking. I don't think we even finished the last assignment.

}{

The next couple weeks of shooting went by smoothly. We were getting time off because so many changes had to be made, but we did as much as we could. Between the scenes, I noticed Santana and Cosette spent less time alone together. They still joked around and hung out but not as much without me there. I never ran into them making out again and Santana only went over to Cosette's place with me. They settled into more of a friendship.

The day finally came for us to leave. Cosette stopped by the apartment to help us load everything up. I tried to give her back our dresses but she told us to take them. We packed them quickly. Daddy had just run back into the apartment to grab his laptop bag.

"Lima, Ohio," she said it with almost as much disdain as Santana.

"It's really not that bad," I argued.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Google maps would like to say otherwise."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find something to do there," Cosette smirked at her.

"Like what?" Santana asked.

"Really, breaking some small town heart hasn't occurred to you?"

"Rachel's dad wants me to marry into the family actually," she chuckled.

"Matt has no idea what's coming," I sighed.

"Well-"

"Santana," I shouted.

She smirked at that.

Daddy came out then, his bag in hand as he urged us into the car.

"Keep me updated," she shoved Santana playfully as she got into the car.

As I got in she stopped me to whisper, "I may be overstepping some boundaries, but she's got more on her mind than breaking hearts. Just keep your eyes on her."

I didn't entirely understand the warning but nodded, "Um, alright."

"I'll see you in a few," she hugged me before heading to her own car.

I watched her leave for a second before getting in and driving off with them.

}{

The nearest airport to Lima was a few towns away. We landed at the small airport in the afternoon and waited around for quite some time. An hour after landing Matt showed up in his truck. I hadn't seen my cousin in a few years; he'd definitely grown as he came up to us and picked me up, spinning me around. Daddy patted his back and pulled him in for a hug when he'd finally put me down. Santana mostly hung back, although Matt greeted her politely anyway.

"Uncle Hiram's flight is coming in next, right?" Matt asked.

"Yep," Daddy nodded, "We're going to have to figure out the seating though."

"I wouldn't be opposed to sitting in the back," I shrugged as we collected our luggage.

Santana didn't look too pleased with that.

"We still have to think about Santana and Dad," Daddy mumbled, "Maybe a rental."

"I could sit in the back too," Santana offered, "It's no trouble for me."

"I probably should have brought Mom's van," Matt mentioned.

"How is V?" Leroy asked him as we headed out to the parking garage.

They walked a bit faster than us as I finally teased Santana, "So, do you see yourself as a Campbell-Rutherford?"

She scoffed, "It's about as likely as me becoming a Berry at this point."

I blushed slightly at that, deciding to change the subject, "So, Matt says his school has a show choir, and we might be able to check it out."

"Yippee," she murmured.

"Don't get too excited."

"Trust me, I won't," she assured as we reached the car, "Does it have a gym?"

"I believe so."

"I haven't been in awhile; do you think we'd be able to use it?" She started loading our bags.

I nodded as she climbed in, "I'm sure we could find out."

"I'm going to go look for Dad," Daddy mentioned kissing the top of my head, "I think his plane should be landing soon.

"Alright Daddy," Santana and I got into the cab of the truck as we waited.

"So, how's your new movie coming?" Matt asked.

"It's great, I'm having a lot of fun on it, but it is hard to adjusting from the stage and everything."

"You know, I bet this kid Finn's brother might like you, he was all Broadway while he was in Glee."

"I'd love to meet him then," I was excited about that.

"We could probably stop by later if you want."

"Only if we wouldn't be imposing."

"Would your friend mind?" He asked.

I looked to Santana questioningly.

"I'm down for anything," she shrugged.

"Great."

We caught up for a bit before we saw the two men coming. Santana and I slid out of the car quickly.

"Dad!" I called before jogging up to hug the man.

"Hey Sweetie," he beamed down at me.

"Hello Mr. Berry," Santana said in that overly sweet sing-song voice.

He groaned as he saw her, and Daddy hit his shoulder disapprovingly.

"Don't mind him," Daddy apologized.

Dad shoved his bags in the truck before getting in. Daddy followed and Santana helped me into the bed of the truck before climbing in herself. The ride was peaceful. We could hear everyone chatting from the inside once Matt opened the little window. Santana was looking distractedly at the scenery as we rode. She'd let her hair down and it blew slightly in the wind, as if it had a mind of its own. I couldn't help but appreciate the sight as I watched her. I wondered what she was thinking about as she watched the many houses of the few towns pass by. In one particular town she seemed almost tense, especially as we passed a church. Recognition crossed her features and when I kicked her foot slightly to catch her attention it was replaced with seriousness.

"Are you okay?" I mouthed, knowing the wind would carry it away.

She nodded and gave me a lazy thumbs up, her eyes falling back to church as it shrunk in the distance.

I continued watching her until her features relaxed a bit more.

That recognition and tenseness didn't occur again the rest of the drive.

}{

"Rachel!" A tall black man called from the doorway of the two-story house we'd pulled up to.

"Uncle James!" I replied with the same intensity as he came out and pulled me into a hug just as his son had.

He was putting me down when he took note of the girl standing curiously behind me before looking to Dad and Daddy, "You two had another one without telling me."

"God no!" Dad almost shouted.

"Hiram!" he shoved Dad again. "This is Rachel's bodyguard, Santana. Santana this is my brother, James."

"Hello, sir," Santana held out her hand but let out a small whimper as the man pulled her into a hug.

"I'm not exactly one for hugs," he explained when he put her down. "You don't exactly look like much for a bodyguard."

"Might thoughts exactly," Dad murmured.

"But I guess that means you're a little more of a threat, huh?" The tall man beamed.

Santana couldn't help but smile, "I guess so."

We settled into the house for awhile. Dad and Daddy were going to take the guest room while Santana and I took the garage turned media room. It had a large sectional with a pull out bed, a flat-screen, and surround sound. Santana was almost excited about it until I revealed the few DVDs I'd brought with me. Aunt Vivian was just excited to see me. She even seemed pleased to see Santana.

"You two are so adorable," she assured as she hugged us both.

"Thank you Aunt Viv."

"You look familiar though," she mentioned to Santana, "Are you from around here?"

"Um, I used to have some family in the area," Santana shrugged.

"What's your name sweetheart?" The older woman asked thoughtfully as she if it were on the tip of her tongue, "I swear you look like someone I know."

"Santana Lopez," She replied.

"I've heard that name before," she mumbled.

"They're both pretty common."

The woman nodded but hardly seemed willing to give up, "It'll come to me, but for now, you two should relax. Matty's probably going to meet some friends later; you can go with him if you like."

"We wouldn't want to intrude," I assured.

"There'd be no intrusion sweetie, you're Matty's favorite cousin," she smiled before heading out.

I looked to the girl, "Why didn't you tell me you have family here."

"Had," she corrected, "And they aren't here anymore."

I would have pressed the issue but Matt knocked on the open door before coming in, "I'm heading over to Finn's if you guys want to come."

"Alright," I smiled at the boy before looking to Santana curiously.

She stood up and followed us out. After quick goodbyes to the adults we were in the truck, heading a few blocks away. We stopped by another two-story house before getting out. Matt hardly knocked at the door before a tall boy, probably even taller than Uncle James opened the door.

"'Sup Puckerman?" Matt punched the boy playfully.

"Whoa, Matt, what's up? You didn't tell us you had it in with such hotties. I know all the hot pieces of ass in Lima, and I definitely don't know either of you."

"Chill man, this is my cousin, Rachel and her girl Santana."

"Noah Puckerma, but everyone calls me Puck," an almost charming grin crossed his features as he looked us both up and down.

"I don't particularly enjoy being referred to in such a manner, Noah," I moved past him to follow Matt.

"I'm down for it, but you might want to close your mouth, we aren't that close yet," Santana mentioned as she patted the boy's chest and followed us in.

"This is Finn," Matt pointed to another boy sitting on a ratty old armchair.

"Um hi," he smiled and waved. The charm Noah had been trying for fit much more easily on his face.

"Hello Finn," I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"That's Mike, Sam, Kurt and Blaine," he pointed in order to an Asian boy, a blonde boy, a brunette boy and the raven-haired boy he was cuddling.

They each greeted me, although Kurt's was by far the most excited, "Wait, wait, wait, Rachel Berry, the Rachel Berry did not just walk into my house."

I shrugged and smiled a bit nervously.

"This is absolutely fabulous. Are you seeing this, Blaine?"

"I see it Babe," the other boy smiled politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kurt."

"I don't think you understand how excited I am, I just thought I'd be watching Neanderthals- present company excluded- smash into each other to move a ball around a field, and the Rachel Barbara Berry is in my house."

"Wow, middle name and everything," Santana rolled her eyes.

The boy threw her a death glare before continuing, "Oh my god, you must come with me, I didn't think I could take another second of this."

"Well, I'm not a particularly big fan of football; I was hoping to spend time with my cousin."

"It's fine Rach, we have your whole vacation and you can come to Glee with us."

The boy almost squealed, only to be shushed by the others.

"Santana," I looked to her questioningly.

She looked up from the arm of the couch she'd claimed next to Noah, "I'll go too." She leaned down to Noah and a smirk crossed her face as her voice lowered to a sultry whisper, "You'll tell me the score later, right?"

"Hell yeah," he grinned cheekily before she followed us upstairs.

"Bye," Finn called, that smile still on his face.

"Bye Finn." I couldn't help but giggle slightly.

Santana smirked and shoved me playfully as we followed Kurt upstairs. His room was tastefully decorated but the most interesting things were the playbills and Broadway memorabilia.

"So, Finn's your brother," I asked, trying to be discreet.

"Yes, for the most part," he nodded.

"I think Rachel has a crush," Santana interjected from her spot on the bed.

I blushed deeply at that, "That's just an assumption Santana, besides I wasn't the one throwing myself at that Noah boy as if it were a sport."

"It is," she smirked, "But that's just me. Let's count how many people have had you giggling like a school girl."

"Speaking of which," Kurt chimed, "Is this really how she dresses."

"The skirts I can't complain about," Santana mentioned, "But is Finn the type to go for argyle?"

Kurt scoffed, "Finn wouldn't notice, trust me, I'm almost positive his middle name is flannel."

"A match made in heaven," Santana teased.

"I'm liking you both less and less," I groaned as I sat on the bed next to Santana.

"Trust me," Kurt started, "She's got no place, I mean, lesbian biker chic?"

Santana looked down to her outfit, "Alright, Ellen, it was fine when we were talking about Rachel-"

"Hey!"

"But the clothes don't really matter once you realize that this body is bangin'," she gestured to herself.

Kurt almost flinched at that, "You can win this argument as long as you promise not to mention your body again."

"'S all I'm saying," she grinned cockily.

"You and Puck work," he waved over her general direction, "That is a match."

"He's cute, but he's a play thing, there's only enough room for my ego."

"But you and Finn," he gestured to me, "Not going to happen."

"Suggesting that I were interested," I did my best to keep my face from falling at that, "Why not?"

"Because his girlfriend is like, the head bitch," she assured.

"Once again," Santana waved to herself once more, "Only room for one."

"We'll see," Kurt seemed amused at that.

We spent the night slipping talking and hanging out. Santana slipped in and out of the room every so often, claiming she could "only take so much girl-time." She'd go down to watch football with the boys, or I suppose, flirt. Kurt's boyfriend Blaine came upstairs a few times as well to talk to us. He was polite and seemed just as interested in me as Kurt initially was although he was more subtle about it. We left with promises to come back and tentative smiles shared between Finn and me, although the thought that he had a girlfriend still bothered me a bit. Santana and Noah exchanged numbers without a second thought. Matt drove us back to his house, glad that we'd gotten along with his friends.


	7. Lima Heights Adjacent?

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

Santana seemed to fit in with my family quite easily. Aunt Vivienne and Uncle James loved her and Matt was more than willing to let us tag along with him. Breakfast the day after we arrived was interesting. Matt had to Drive Santana to the store to pick up something for me to eat. While I was on the phone with her, Aunt Viv remembered a few things she needed Matt to get.

"Santana, can you make sure Matt gets some sugar?"

"Yes ma'am," Santana assured.

"Aunt V," the woman scolded, "And some more eggs."

"I'll put the phone on speaker."

"Thank you honey. Matthew you heard the eggs and sugar, right?"

"Yes, mom."  
>I felt the need to remind Santana, "Don't forget to read the packages.<p>

"Rachel, if you start that again you can eat eggs with everyone else," She warned. I could hear Matt chuckling in the background.

I scowled, "No, Santana I refuse to eat chicken fet" Aunt V clapped a hand over my mouth.

"Just get whatever you two will need for your stay."

"Matthew," a woman called from the other line, "Is this your new girlfriend?"

"Oh God," Aunt V groaned.

Santana took it off speaker, "Should I be worried?"

"For the next three weeks? Yes. The Lima rumor mill is up and running now."

"I think I have to hug people," Santana sounded worried before the line went dead.

"They'll be alright," Aunt V assured.

I watched her make what breakfast she could, grimacing at the cracked eggs and frying bacon but keeping my comments to myself. Finally, Santana and Matt were back, arguing about video games. Aunt V cleaned the stove easily and Santana started some oatmeal. Matt set places at the table and when everything was all done we settled to eat. I sat between Matt and Santana and regretted it when they got the whole table into a discussion about sports. Aunt V had to make Santana, Daddy, Matt, and Uncle James sit down rather than allowing them to compare the proper stance to throw a football and to throw a punch. Breakfast calmed down to Daddy trying to convince Santana to get some of Aunt V's recipes and Uncle James trying to get Aunt V to share. The adults settled us with the task of cleaning.

"Santana washes, Rachel fries, Matt puts the dishes away," Aunt V declared.

"Works for me," Santana shrugged.

In the few attempts we made at switching our designated jobs we learned that Matt dried to hard and dropped plates and I was too short to put anything away. Santana handled each task better than either of us.

"San, you think you can put your money where your mouth is?" Matt asked

"Anytime" she assured the boy haughtily.

"You want to come to the park with us, Rach?" My cousin asked.

""You play football?" Santana asked shocked.

Matt laughed, "Go no! She's too small to play tackle, besides, she's a butterfingers."

"Am not," I challenged, passing him the plate, I turned back just in time to see Santana with a wash rag in hand, "Santana Lopez, don't you da-"

The rag slipped past my fingers and hit my chest with a distinctly wet sound before flopping to the ground.

They lapsed into hysterical laughter. I could hear it as I stormed into our shared room. When it finally settled down Santana was coming through the door, "Maybe you could try soccer."

"Ha ha," I mumbled dryly.

She sat on the bed next to me, "Come on, you can watch me tear up the field."

"I didn't know you played football," I pointed out.

She shook her head, "I don't but how hard could it be?"

}{

She changed into sweats and a tank-top, opting to leave her usual coat home. It was fairly warm out. The adults decided to join us as we made the short walk and sat on the sidelines as we saw that the boys had already started. Kurt waved me over to where he was watching Blaine, an Asian girl sat next to him.

"She really thinks she's going to do something, doesn't she?" The boy asked curiously.

"I have no idea," I assured, "But I don't think I could have stopped her either way."

We could see the boys, two especially, questioning her presence on the field. They were still arguing when Finn finally took her onto his team.

"That was nice of him," I smiled.

"Until Karofsky and Azimio start bugging her," the Asian girl mentioned, pointing out the two boys.

I grew a bit worried as I looked the scene over.

"This is one way to get rid of her," Dad mumbled as he sat next to me.

"You never know, this could be another skill to add to her resume," I pointed out.

He scoffed, "I don't think "Target for grown me," qualifies her for anything more than a court case."

I elbowed him as they started playing again.

At firs both teams, especially her own, ignored her. The blonde boy, Sam, went out of his way to keep her from getting tackled accidentally. They didn't care too much for her until she blocked a few of Mike and Matt's catches. Azimio and David made a lot more of an effort to keep her out of the way. It took some time before they finally started throwing the ball to her rather than Sam or Puck and Blaine finally sat out. They'd been tied when Finn called them in.

Blaine seemed very interested, "Poor Santana."

"What? Why?" I asked nervously.

He pointed to Finn, "If I'm right, Finn's going to try to get her to run it. She's faster than anybody on the field and that's including Sam who's been guarding her."

I nodded, not entirely understanding how that was bad.

"If she makes it, great, but David and Azimio have had their eyes on her for a while now," I noticed the boys glares permanently fixed on her.

They finally lined up again and Finn was yelling. He moved back as if he was going to throw the ball before passing it to Santana. She turned out of the way as Mike tried to catch her and side-stepped Matt. Azimio tried to intimidate her with his size but she moved around him fast enough that the two boys previously tailing her crashed into him. She finally reached Dave and he was in her way. She made a split-second decision and a haughty smirk crossed her face as she went head-on towards the boy. Dave looked just as full of himself as the girl bolted toward him. He dived for her and she tried to jump over his back. I couldn't see exactly what happened but she tumbled forward and Finn, Noah, Sam and Blaine were running towards her cheering. She looked a little dizzy and she was clutching her wrist but she grinned as they pulled her onto their shoulders. When they let her back down, she came over to me, grimacing as she clutched her wrist.

"Had fun?" I asked, taking her left hand to inspect the damage.

"Kicking ass? Hell yeah," she seemed a little too proud. Dad had long ago migrated away from us.

I moved her hand a little watching her scowl, "And breaking bones."

"It's not broken," she assured, taking it back.

"Probably sprained," Blaine supplied.

Kurt handed her a soda can from an ice chest next to him.

"Thanks," she held it to her wrist.

Daddy, Uncle James, and Matt were already surrounding her.

"You're on my team next time," Matt declared as he patted her back.

"In your face! My kid whooped yours, no offense Matt," Daddy was doing some awkward version of the running man.

"She's not even yours!" Uncle James pointed out.

Daddy shook his head before kneeling to hug a slightly blushing Santana, "She's an official Berry now."

"Is that a curse or a blessing?" She asked, setting off more laughter as she stood up, and even through the joke she looked genuinely happy.

"You're covered in dirt and that's probably going to start swelling," I pointed out as I looked to her wrist.

She shrugged, still enjoying the high of celebration.

"Let me push you on the swings," She tiled her head towards the metal structure.

I really should have said no. She was already hurt and it was so childish, but maybe that's why I let her drag me from everyone else. Up until then she'd seemed too serious, even when she was arguing about candy with Cosette or drinking at the club, there was a forced maturity about her. I hadn't seen her so happy or so willing to drop the tough persona and I liked it. Even how ecstatic she seemed at Daddy's declaration was a nice change.

"Don't use your bad hand," I warned as I sat on the rubber seat.

She scoffed, which was more familiar to me, "I'm not stupid."

"Well…" I teased as I felt her hand on my back. As I went up I kicked forward and then her hand was on my back once more. We followed that pattern until she sat on the swing next to me. We kicked lazily in the silence until we were both just sitting.

I would have been content with that, until she turned to me, shifting slightly on the seat, "I used to, um love the swings when I was little."

I looked to her curiously, taking in her downcast eyes and hoping she'd continue.

This was yet another side of her I certainly hadn't seen. A shy Santana, voice small, ego and façade subtracted from the picture, went on, "My, um, dad would push me."

I wanted to ask more. Where that had come from? What had brought it up? What happened to her dad? Where was he now? What about her mother? I knew that pushing would only result in unanswered questions. Instead I kept looking her over, seething in my rampant curiosity but doing my best to contain it.

She didn't have much else to say as we sat there. I hoped for more but it didn't come. In time, interruption came in the form of an adorably grinning Finn came over.

"Hey, Santana," he greeted the girl, "Hey Rachel."

"Hi Finn," I still wanted to hear from Santana but it didn't seem likely that I'd be hearing more with Finn around.

"Um, some of the guys are going to Breadstix and we were wondering if you wanted to come?" He mostly seemed to be talking to me.

I looked to Santana, whatever innocent content she'd been feeling was replaced by her usual front of boredom, hinted with skepticism as she looked the boy over.

"We'd love to," I assured, "After getting cleaned up though."

"Alr-"

"Hey, sweetheart," an overly perky blonde girl came up and took his arm, "Who are your friends?"

"Um, hey Quinn," the boy looked almost guilty as he smiled down at the blonde, "These are Matt's cousins Rachel and Santana."

Santana was about to comment when the blonde went on.

"It's nice to meet you," she said in her overly sugar-coated voice, "Are you going to lunch with us?"

"Yes, Santana and I were planning on joining everyone after getting cleaned up. Well, as long as Matt's willing to wait for us, considering he's our ride around town at the moment."

She'd looked away from me to examine Santana for a moment. She seemed to be scrutinizing her, and her smile faltered for a moment before she looked back to me, "I can't wait. You should come sit with me and my friends, you know, to give the boys their time."

"I'm fine with boy time," Santana assured.

"I'm sure," she tilted her head slightly.

Santana's eyebrows knit together for a moment before an amused curl came to her lips, "We'll see you there, Kim." She grabbed my wrist lightly with her right hand and tugged me away.

"It's Quinn," the girl corrected.

"I'm sure," Santana waved lazily over her shoulder.

"See you," Finn called.

"Bye," I waved to the couple, feeling guilty even as I smiled at the tall boy.

I heard them speaking heatedly behind as us Santana took us to where my family was getting ready to leave.

"I can feel myself liking Lima," she had the same smirk from the football game on her face.

She let go of my wrist, "I don't like that look."

"You'll learn to appreciate it," she assured.

Aunt V came to us, holding out a wrist brace to Santana, "It's Matt's old one; he used to use it all the time."

"Thank you M- Aunt V," she smiled and took the brace and slipped it on, with my assistance.

"No problem honey, but you should put some ice on that too," she pointed out, "And get cleaned up for your victory lunch, Rachel knows where the towels and things are for the bathroom." She kissed both of our foreheads before heading back to the men still talking about the game.

I showed Santana the towels and things in the guest bathroom before going to take my own shower in the main bathroom. I was quite shocked to see her in Cosette's dress when I went back to the room, dressed in a black skirt and a navy blue button up. I watched her running her fingers through her hair for a moment. When she finally turned around she looked my outfit up and down for a moment before coming to me and unbuttoning some of the buttons far too low for my liking.

"I don't feel as much like your babysitter when you actually look your age," she explained.

"At what age is it appropriate to flash a restaurant?" I questioned batting her hands away.

"Depends how badly you want lunch," she teased.

I scowled at her, and finally gave up, settling for one button above the cleavage Santana seemed so intent on exposing, "Why are you getting so dressed up?"

She shrugged, "Trying to make a good impression."

"It has something to do with Quinn, doesn't it?" I wondered.

She shrugged again, "I'm on like a whole different level from her. Seriously, this," she waved down her body in the tight fitting dress, "tops a sundress."

"I thought she looked nice," I pointed out.

"You would," she rolled her eyes but still smiled.

She held out the brace for me to put it on, "I never thought I'd see you in that dress again."

"Even I have to appreciate what it does for my body." I wondered if there was any stopping her ego.

}{

When she said she didn't mind boy time Santana wasn't lying. I hadn't exactly seen her interact with any boys to the extent she did with girls but it was very different from her interactions with girls. She was the aggressor either way but it was much more subtle with boys. She almost made it seem like it was their idea when they sought her attention; tugging her onto their lap to talk about something she pretended to care about, bragging about some game or event, or even playing with the hem of her skirt. Mostly, Noah and Sam were her targets, but that didn't stop the others from watching.

I sat at a table of girls, Tina, Mike's girlfriend, Quinn and her two friends Mercedes and Brittany. Brittany was a bubbly blonde, her cheeriness far more genuine than Quinn's. Mercedes was a larger black girl who seemed unhappy with my presence and even less thrilled by Santana's on Noah's lap. Kurt and Blaine were sharing glances at the table behind us. Santana finally drew herself away from the boys table to come sit next to me, although it seemed she'd stolen their basket of breadsticks.

"You're having a little too much fun," I pointed out playfully.

"I'd say so," Mercedes said past a scowl.

"Do you have a problem, Wheezy?" Santana asked, hardly caring to put her breadstick down.

"As a matter of fact," the girl huffed, "I do."

"And what might that be?" Santana did her best to keep the bored tone in her voice but it worried me that I could see how amused she was.

"I have a problem with you rubbing all up on my man," the girl raised her voice slightly and the boys table had even quieted to look at us.

"Your man?" Noah questioned.

"First of all, He didn't think he was "your man" when I was all up on him," Santana challenged, finally letting her smirk show, "and second of all, I'm not appreciating all this attention, so if you'd kindly move the fuck on, I won't have to make you."

"Oh hell to the no," Brittany stood from her seat allowing the girl slide out of the booth before moving to grab Santana by the front of her dress.

"San," I tried to warn.

"See, I'm going to ask you nicely, one more time, to move the fuck on and let go of me," Santana's voice was leveled but there was an edge to it as I saw her fists clench.

"Your shit may fly wherever you're from, but we don't play that in Lima Heights Adjacent," she was in Santana's face now.

"Lima Heights Adjacent?" I wondered.

Everyone else shook their head.

"Well," Santana gripped the girl's wrist in her weak hand, "I don't play wrinkles in my damn dress." She twisted the girl's wrist slightly and I was shocked when she yelped and let her go. It only took her a moment before she was swinging at Santana. Santana stayed mostly out of her reach. It took a moment but the boys finally developed some sense as Noah grabbed Mercedes and Sam grabbed Santana before she could continue teasing the girl.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," a man who I assumed was the manager asked us.

"Gladly," Santana scowled, although she took another breadstick as we left.

I assured Matt we'd be alright to walk home before following her out.

Some of the other kids were slipping out as well.

"I suppose we should find you a gym," I pointed out.

Her eyebrows were set tightly as she kept walking.

"Noah really didn't seem particularly interested in her."

She shook her head slightly, "He wasn't, trust me."

"He and Sam seemed far more interested in you."

"I'm sorry for ruining your lunch," she shrugged.

I nudged her, "To be honest, that was somewhat thrilling."

She looked down at me somewhat amused, "If it didn't go against my job description I might like watching you in a catfight."

"Thank you?"

"Santana? Right?" The other blonde from the restaurant pulled up to us in a minivan.

Santana scowled at the girl.

"I'm really sorry about Mercedes. She's usually a lot nicer," she tried to explain.

"I'll believe that when I see it," she glared back at the restaurant.

"Her and Quinn are just grumpy since you guys are like shiny new toys for the boys," the blonde shrugged, but held up a paper Breadstix bag, "You like these right? You can have 'em if you let me give you a ride home."

Santana looked skeptical but looked to me. When I could only offer her a shrug, she examined the car for any signs of the other girls before urging me into the backseat.

The blonde smiled and dropped the bag into her lap.

"You're Brittany, right?" I asked as I pulled my seat belt on.

"Mhum," she nodded, beaming as she drove, "Um, you're staying with Matt right?"

"Yes," I nodded.

Santana was already eating another breadstick, "Did you, like, want something?"

"San," I hit her shoulder lightly.

"What? Typically, after you start a fight with someone's friend they're a lot more likely to hit you with their car than offer you a ride," she shrugged.

"It's true," Brittany agreed, "But I don't have a license so I don't really want to talk to the cops."

We both stared at the girl, a little in shock for a moment.

"And I felt bad for you getting kicked out."

"That's alright," Santana said although she was still obviously stuck on the girl's previous comment.

"Should you be driving without a license?" I wondered, trying to worry about one thing at a time.

She shrugged, "Plenty of kids do."

"That's comforting," I sighed, looking out the window nervously.

"I haven't seen any wrecks yet," Santana pointed out.

"Since you guys are staying with Matt, does that mean you'll be going to McKinley?" The blonde queried.

Santana shrugged, "Wouldn't mind hanging around the school. Why?"

I felt my heart stop as the girl let go of the wheel to clap before reclaiming it, "I could be your tour guide, I mean, I usually spend the day with Quinn and Mercedes but I don't think they'll mind."

"I don't know," Santana didn't seem to sure.

"That'd be wonderful Brittany. It would be nice to have a guide through the school," I smiled at the girl in the rear-view mirror.

Brittany dropped us off at Matt's house after a bit more light chatter. She let me go with a warm waved but she gave Santana a somewhat unexpected peck on the cheek. The girl drove off as we headed inside. Santana was struggling to hide a slight smile as she finished the bag of breadsticks. She was going to throw the bag away when I noticed a slight scrawl on it. I looked it over quickly.

I held it up for Santana to read the phone number, "It seems you're pretty popular here."

She took the bag and tapped the number into her phone, "Of course I am."

"It's good to see that this small town has done wonders for your ego," I murmured, settling onto the couch.

"I'm not the only one making friends," she pointed out, "Or enemies."

I scoffed at that, "Unlike you, Santana, I haven't gone out of my way to offend or insult anyone."

She smirked challengingly, "You mean you haven't been making eyes at another girl's boyfriend?"

"You're one to talk," I replied.

"Puck isn't interested in her otherwise he wouldn't have been all over me," she explained, "But Finn is with Quinn. I'm not going to let her touch you, but that doesn't mean you aren't doing anything to their relationship."

I felt something well up inside me as that conversation came to an end. It was bitter and unsettling. Santana had already seemed to move on as she changed into a clean tank-top and shorts and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. She left for a moment and came back with an icepack for her wrist which had, as predicted, swollen.

"Can we watch a movie? I asked, wanting to break the silence.

She looked me over curiously before nodding, "You're in charge."

"I almost believe you," I smiled as I moved off of the couch to my suitcase.

"No Babs," she warned.

I pouted at the small collection in my bag before deciding on one I was sure she would like.

Somewhere after Last Year's Rent and before Today for You Tomorrow for Me, Aunt V and Daddy had ended up in the dark room with us. By Take Me or Leave Me they were asleep. At the reprise of I'll Cover You at Angel's funeral I had my head on Santana's lap and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. The movie had ended, credits had rolled, and the start screen was muted when I woke up amidst the others. Santana was still awake though. She was humming what sounded like I'll Cover You as she brushed my hair unconsciously.

"Uncle James ordered in if you're hungry," she murmured, clicking the remote so the movie started playing again.

"What? We just ate," I rubbed my eyes as I sat up.

I could see a tired smile in the unnatural light from the television as it crossed her face, "You guys slept all day."

My eyes widened slightly, "You let me sleep so long?"

"I wasn't aware I was your alarm clock," she teased.

My glare faded quickly as I yawned and settled my head on her shoulder, "How's your wrist?"

She looked down to the ice pack, "Sore. The ice melted."

"C'mon," I stood up sluggishly.

We watched when both Daddy and Aunt V groaned but left as they settled again.

I led Santana to the kitchen, "Why didn't you get more ice?"

She shrugged and leaned against the counter, "You were kind of sleeping on me."

I rolled my eyes, something I must have picked up from her, "So you just sat there all day?"

"No," she sneered, "From my seat I performed an open heart surgery, prepared a four course meal, and finished not one but two tri-athalons."

I snatched the ice pack from her hand and contemplated dumping the water on her. I settled for splashing her as I emptied it into the sink.

"I watched the movie again and texted," she watched as I filled the bag with fresh ice and sealed it, "Cosette said hi, by the way."

I nodded and handed over the pack, "Did she say anything about your latest ventures."

She grinned as she pulled out her phone, "_"Go for the blonde girl because you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to and she brought you food."_" Um, _"Tell me what Trouty Mouth's lips are like,"_ and uh, _"Mohawks are a bad sign. Next thing you know you'll be raising his children to the soundtrack of his failed rock-star career.""_

"That's terrible," I gaped at her.

"I know! The last one was pretty morbid," she shuddered.

"I meant all of them," I corrected, "She might as well have just told you to let them line up and take turns."

She held up the phone, scrolling through her messages, "Actually-"

"I was joking!" I almost shouted; my face was tinted red.

"I don't think she was," she laughed. "Want to hear what she had to say about your situation?"

I glared at the phone for a moment until curiosity got the best of me, "I suppose."

She located the message, "_"If you'd stop hogging all of the singles and pissing people off, Rachel wouldn't have to go after someone else's boyfriend. But it's good to know she isn't asexual. Pretty soon you'll be giving her 'The Talk.'"_"

I knew I was still blushing, "You two are awful. I'm not going after anyone's boyfriend nor am I asexual. I'll have you know that my father's have already provided me with the resources to learn all that I need to know about sexual intercourse."

Santana stared at me blankly for a beat. I was almost certain she was expecting more when she spoke, "My libido just died a little bit. First of all, don't ever say sexual intercourse again," she shook her head, "and second, what do you mean provided resources?"

I worried my lip "They gave me a number of informational pamphlets that led me to many very educational websites."

She almost cringed at that. "I can't help but wonder what other joys you went at the start of puberty," she mumbled dryly.

I blanched at that, "I'd rather not talk about that."

"I get it," she nodded, "But this discussion isn't over."

I nodded, not entirely thrilled with that.

"How long have we been out?" Daddy groaned from the doorway.

"All day," I answered, watching him stretch.

"What?" Aunt V worried, "I'm sorry for being such a terrible hostess. I got caught up in the movie."

"It's cool," Santana assured, "We all sort of crashed."

"Uncle James ordered in," I pointed to the bags on the stove.

"I knew there was a reason I love that man," she smiled before going to look for the rest of the family.

Daddy yawned, "I forgot to ask; how was lunch?"

"Interesting," I supplied, "Santana's made friends."

"That's good," he smiled, "Anyone interesting?"

She scowled at me before answering, "This boy Finn, he was the quarterback on my team. He and Rachel got along really well too."

"Really?" Daddy got a gossipy smile on his face. If any stories I'd heard were true, it was his Lima showing.

"Yes, Daddy, I even sat with his girlfriend and her friends, although Santana preferred sitting with the boys."

"Oh sweetie," he came and kissed my forehead, "You're finally getting the sibling experience you've been missing out on."

Dad came in, quirking an eyebrow at their laughter, "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing important," I assured.

"Right, well, are you doing anything tomorrow?" He asked.

"Yes, I was thinking of going to the high school and finding out if I could utilize their exercise facilities."

"Really?" Aunt V asked as she came back in the kitchen with Uncle James and Matt in tow.

"Awesome, I so win at show and tell in glee club," Matt cheered.

Aunt V smiled even as she warned, "Just keep an eye on that Puckerman boy, he's nothing but trouble."

"So we've heard," Santana laughed.

"Santana's already got her eye on him,' I mentioned.

Dad made a disapproving noise, Daddy nudged him, and Santana glared at me.

"Damn, I was hoping she'd marry Matt," Uncle James pouted playfully.

"My thoughts exactly big bro," Daddy assured his own pout in place.

We all laughed at Santana and Matt's expense a bit longer before moving onto the next subject. Big family dinners were something rare that I'd grown to look forward to in the few times that I got them, but I couldn't say I enjoyed them nearly as much as Santana seemed to. Even the prying into her personal life, the embarrassing questions, and the bad jokes shared among each other made her smile in that childish way that seemed so foreign on her face but I couldn't deny that I wanted to see more of it.


	8. Did she just call me a street walker?

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

"Come on Rachel, it's time to get up, Matt's got to go for a football meeting," Santana urged from the side of the bed.

"God, this early?" I whined into my pillow.

"Yes, people wake up early when they hope to be productive," she teased as she tugged the blanket off of me.

"I know, but I can be productive if I wake up at nine" I groaned into the pillow, letting her pull me into a seated position where I rubbed my eyes.

She just smirked playfully and pulled me up, dropping a pile of clothes into my lap, "If we're going to be real people, you can at least dress like one."

"I dress fine, thank you very much," I ground out, although it was still pretty raw with sleep.

She scoffed, "If we were going to elementary school."

I glowered at her for a moment before noticing the small backpack she carried, "Trying to keep up appearances?"

"Gym clothes," she held up the bag, "I grabbed yours too."

"Thank you," I sighed as I finally got up, stretching my arms and back.

}{

Matt pointed us to the track. We changed in a bathroom and headed over, Santana in her bike-shorts and tank-top and me in track shorts and a tank. She put our bag on the fence by the bleachers and started stretching. I followed her lead and we were about to start when somebody all but tackled Santana in a hug. She looked shocked and a little confused

"You guys came," Brittany declared as Santana relaxed.

"Yeah," She nodded, "We wanted to come exercise."

"I don't know if Coach Sylvester will be happy about that," the girl looked uncertain.

"Who?" San asked.

"Pierce, would you mind explaining the street walker and her sidekick to me?" A voice boomed through a mega-phone as woman clad in a red track suit came up to us.

"Did she just call me a street walker?" Santana looked equal parts confused and offended.

"Why am I the side-kick?" I asked.

"Didn't see the nose, my apologies, you're obviously the Super Snout and she's your second in command the Harlequin Harlot."

"What the hell is your problem?" Santana demanded.

"Indigestion, the arts, hippies, a possible urinary tract infection," she started listing things, "Oh- you meant now. Right now, it's you and the chairwoman of Munchkin land interrupting my cheer practice."

Santana, after her initial concern, looked annoyed, "We weren't exactly going for that," she crossed her arms, "We just wanted to get in a quick exercise."

At first the woman looked ready to tell us no, but she looked Santana up and down. I watched as she circled her, scrutinizing the girl that was growing more and more irritated. Finally she was back in front of her.

"See anything particularly interesting?" Santana asked.

"Very," the woman's head bobbed in a nod, "I've thought over your request, and you and your friend can use my track."

"Wasn't exactly a request," she shrugged before waving me to follow her.

"I'll see you later," Brittany called after us, but the coach was already urging her to go to the group of girls gathered in cheerleading uniforms.

"I think-" Santana mentioned as we walked away from the group, "I think my soul just died a bit."

I couldn't help but laugh when she said that. I followed her as we started jogging. When we were about halfway around the track the girls were forming a pyramid. When we got closer I could recognize a few faces, Quinn and Mercedes among them. I also noticed that the coach kept her eyes on us. The girls continued practicing their routine while we kept up our jog. After about five laps I had to sit down but I urged Santana to keep going as long as she needed. That's when I realized the coach was only watching Santana. The woman told her own cheerleaders to take a few laps; few of them could even catch up to her, some tiring after four laps.

"Where did you find her?" The woman asked as she stood next to where I was sitting.

"Back in New York," I offered, confusion tinting my voice.

"What is she?" She wondered.

"My bodyguard."

She nodded understandingly, "Suiting. I remember my own time working as a bodyguard to Kennedy."

I couldn't help but wonder if that was physically possible but kept the question to myself.

"She's got the body of a Roman Goddess and the attitude of a young Sue Sylvester," she stated, "She might just be a stone for me to mold."

"Don't you mean cla-"

"I know what I said," she stopped me.

"Are you saying she could be a cheerleader?"

The woman scoffed as she said that, "These aren't just cheerleaders," she gestured to the girls that shuffled past us, some of them already falling, Santana, however, was on her eighth lap, "These are nationally recognized cheerios."

"Congratulations?"

"With her, they could be even better."

"I don't know if she'd be up for that," I shrugged, watching as she talked with Brittany who ran at her side.

"Becoming a champion? Who isn't up for it?"

"I suppose, but she's not even a student at this school and we're leaving in a few weeks," I explained.

"Minor details," the woman dismissed.

Santana still wasn't panting as hard as half of the girls when she came to sit next to me after 11 laps. She was sweating but that was to be expected. She looked up to the woman, "Would we need your permission to use the weight room or are there any other coaches at this school I should worry about meeting?"

"Just me," she nodded before blowing the shiny whistle around her neck. "Quinn, Brittany, Mercedes," she called the girls over, "You've met my Unholy Trinity?"

Santana nodded a slight smirk on her face, "We've met."

Coach Sylvester took some keys from her pocket and tossed them to Brittany, "B, show them to the weight room, Q and M, get Santana a uniform and tell me what you think."

"What?" Santana, Quinn, and Mercedes demanded at the same time.

"Think of it as a trial run," the coach shrugged before turning back to others, "The rest of you better run until you drop."

"Oh hell no," Mercedes groaned.

"Calm down M," Quinn urged, that too sweet smile in place, "B, you take them, and we'll get the stuff."

"Alright," the bubblier blonde led us away when Santana grabbed out bag.

"What the hell's going on?" Santana demanded as she looked to me.

"The coach thinks you'd make a good addition to her team," I answered, "She said something about having the body of a goddess and the attitude of a young Sue Sylvester, which, I think she meant as a compliment but I can't be sure."

"She wants me to be a cheerleader? I don't even go to this school," she reminded.

"That won't stop her," Brittany assured. We finally reached the small room full of exercise equipment. The blonde unlocked it and led us in.

"Oh yes," Santana grinned as she looked around, heading over to the dumbbells. She looked them over before picking a particularly large one. She held it over her head before bending her elbows and moving it behind her and then back up.

"You're too excited about this," I mumbled as I sat on a weight bench near her.

"You too, could have the body of a goddess, if you were nearly as excited about this as me," she pointed out, still lifting the dumbbell.

"I shouldn't have told you that," I groaned.

"She does have a really nice body though," Brittany grinned cheerily.

"See," Santana grunted, "Somebody appreciates me."

We all turned to see Quinn as she entered the room, a red duffel bag in hand. Santana put the weight down and took the bag, opening it to look over the contents. "I'm not sure about this."

"Just do it, like coach said, it's just a trial," Quinn said it more like a warning than an actual reminder.

Santana sneered, "Where do I change?"

"Over there," Quinn pointed to a door with a boy's symbol obviously on it, "Hope it suits your needs."

"It will," Santana nodded, "Rachel, can you help me?"

"Of course," I agreed moving towards the door.

"I'll help too," Brittany chirped, following us in.

Santana slipped into the single stall while I sat on the sink. She complained about always being forced into stupid outfits. Usually, she was quick about changing her clothes between all the whining, it took her a minute. She shifted in the stall for a moment, and then slipped out of her black tennis shoes in exchange for the white ones that, when she finally stepped out of the small room, seemed at least a size big on her. I looked her up and down curiously before looking to the blonde. I could really only see one flaw.

"Come here," I called her over, and she came, turning around for me to begin tugging her hair loose from the messy bun she kept it in.

"You do need a ponytail," Brittany nodded, coming over to watch as I pulled Santana's hair back, making sure to grab every loose piece.

"You have too much hair," I mentioned as I pulled it all through the elastic, checking to make sure there were no loose strands.

She rolled her eyes, "I'll keep that in mind the next time my hairdresser tells me she wants to add more."

"Oh, you get extensions too? They're really good, Mercedes' don't look nearly as real as yours," The blonde asked as she teased the ends of Santana's hair with her fingers.

The girl scoffed, "Nope, this is all real."

I let her turn around and hopped off of the sink and out of the way so she could look in the mirror.

She didn't look like herself; really, she looked like one of them. I had to admit, with her hair out of her face and in the neat ponytail rather than the bun she looked pretty and more open. The top fit her almost too tightly in all the right places and showed off her figure and the skirt even looked nice, the pleats spreading to show off the black shorts she wore beneath them. She looked nice, she just didn't look like the girl I was used to.

"You look really nice," the blonde giggled, already toying with the pleats of Santana's skirt.

"I always look good," Santana said casually but she was blushing slightly.

"I'll go get Quinn and Mercedes so they can see," she skipped out of the room.

"What about you?" She asked, stepping back from the mirror to look to me, "What do you think?"

I looked her over again, still not liking it, "You look good in anything, you just don't look like you." I reached to take one of the pleats between my fingers as Brittany had.

She looked back in the mirror, "I guess you're right."

She turned back to the stall to change, "But maybe you could keep it on for a little bit longer, it is just a trial run after all."

"Yeah," I enjoyed the small smile that came to her face as she looked back in the mirror again, turning slightly to get a better view of herself.

"You're such a girl," I teased, still playing with her pleats. I paused when I accidentally brushed her thigh a couple of times but she really didn't seem to mind so I continued.

She made a face at that but still smiled as she looked in the mirror. I even convinced her to do a couple of spins for me. I kind of saw what Sylvester had meant about her body. In her usual clothes she had a nice frame, but without the sleeves of her leather jacket and the legs of her jeans you could see the toning of her muscles. She obviously had the body for it, and after working out with her and being unable to keep up on plenty of occasions I knew she had the strength and endurance for it, and all she needed was the training and she could probably be a pretty good cheerleader. I blushed as I realized I'd been staring at her as she leaned against the stall wall.

"What's taking her so long?" Santana asked as she glared at the door.

I shrugged and went to the door, pushing gently and huffing when it wouldn't open, "It's stuck."

"Stuck?" She asked, moving from the stall to push the door herself.

"Maybe it's a pull door?" I offered as she shouldered the door.

"It's not a pull door Rachel," She scoffed although I eventually saw her grip the handle and give a slight tug.

"Is it locked?"

She shook her head and jiggled the handle showing the full range of motion. She hit the door again a couple of times before I got worried about her wrist and grabbed her.

"Further injuring your wrist isn't going to get us out of here," I warned as I pulled her back to the sink.

"They fucking locked us in here," She scowled at the door, going to the stall and tossing the red duffel bag down.

"San, calm down," I ruffled through our own bag for our cell phones. When I found mine I saw that there was no signal; even hers didn't have one.

She saw and went back to ramming the door. "This," she hit the door, "Is," she kicked it, "Not," she pushed the door with her hands before dropping her forehead against it with a loud thud, "Happening."

I pulled her back again and held her waist this time, "You aren't going to get the door open. Somebody's got to come in here eventually; if we just wait we'll get out."

She was still glaring at the door but relaxed in my grasp, "That bitch is on my list now."

"I'm sure she is," I nodded, finally releasing her.

Just then, the bell announcing the beginning of the school day rang and Santana groaned and let her head fall back, "Anymore ideas?"

I swatted at her arm, "We'll get out, just relax."

"This shouldn't have happened, we should have just stayed in the weight room," she groaned as she leaned against the sink.

"It's fine, you wanted to try on the uniform," I shrugged, sitting next to her with my legs crossed.

"It was stupid."

"You look nice," I pointed out, "And maybe you'd like cheerleading."

She shook her head, "For three weeks with a squad I will, most likely, never see again?"

I bobbed my head slightly, "You might be better at it than football."

She looked thoughtful but shook her head again, "I have to watch you."

"I could go to practices with you," I supplied, "Besides, you'd look amazing flying through the air. You seem like you'd be small enough for that."

She gave a small smile at that and shook it away, "Whether Sylvester wants me or not, Quinn and her lackeys don't."

"Brittany seemed to like you," I pointed out, although I was even a little surprised by annoyance in my voice.

She laughed bitterly, "You were there when she left, right? Making sure she didn't end up stuck in here with us."

I shrugged, "She just seems too happy, I guess, to have done it."

"Whatever," she let her head fall back against the sink, "Hopefully you're right and we'll get out of here soon enough."

Two hours. We sat in a bathroom for two hours before anybody came to get us. Santana and I easily talked about candy, RENT, the disdain for Barbra Streisand that she hadn't known until she met me, our favorite flavors of oatmeal, and how she intended on making me have fun on this trip. The last was actually what we were on when somebody finally came to let us out. The third bell for the day had rung a few moments ago and I was lying on her jacket with my head on her lap while she brushed my hair slightly. I still found myself playing with the pleats of her skirt.

"I really don't have to make out with someone in order to have fun," I mumbled, twisting the red fabric between my fingers.

"Have you made out with anyone before?" She wondered.

"Of course I have," I huffed, letting fabric drop only to brush my fingers over the pieces resting on her thigh.

"I don't mean acting, or just a peck on the lips," she restated, stilling her hand in my hair.

I blushed furiously and did my best not to look up at her. "I-" I began but a loud creaking could be heard from outside before a masculine looking woman looked in.

"Y'all alright in here?" The woman asked.

I sat up just as Santana jumped up and bolted for the door, "Hell no, we aren't alright. Where's Quinn?"

"You're one of Sue's girls?" She asked Santana as she caught her by the waist and held her up.

Santana was struggling in the woman's grip so I gathered the duffel bags and her jacket, "She isn't, the Coach just wanted her on the team."

"Those bitches locked us in here," Santana was still locked in the woman's grasp.

She nodded understandingly, "Do you two even go here?"

I shook my head.

"Not goin' to say I understand," she finally set Santana down although she kept her hand on her shoulder, "I suppose I should tell y'all to go to the office or something, but I don't want her to go off on anyone."

I looked to the still angry Santana, "She's calming down."

"Y'all are lucky I have third hour weight training," She opened the door further to reveal the group of boys watching this all curiously, "fourth hour would have just left that weight bench by the door."

"Good to know," Santana groaned.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked San.

"You can stay in here for now. Lunch is next anyway," the woman shrugged, walking back into her class. "I don't care that there are girls in here," her voice boomed through the room, "I expect y'all to work just as hard as you normally would. I'm watching you Puckerman!"

Santana perked up as she heard that and looked to the boy in the corner smirking and waving us over.

"What's up?" We went over to him as the rest of the boys settled on their equipment.

"So, who'd you two cross to get locked in the bathroom?" He sat down on a weight bench like the one that had been pushed against the door. He took the fabric of Santana's top between his index finger and thumb, "Let me guess, the Unholy Trinity?"

Santana nodded, letting herself be pulled closer to the boy, "Mhum, guess they aren't our biggest fans."

Noah let his hand fall onto Santana's hip, "I've already got that title."

"Puckerman," the woman called, "Evans go spot him and make sure he actually gets something done."

Sam came over to us and greeted us, "Hey Rachel, Santana." He took his spot behind the bench.

"Hey," she gave him a smile as Noah laid back, his hands on the bar over his head. She looked to the mohawked boy, "How much?"

"Two-twenty," he grunted as he lifted the bar, Sam's hands barely on it.

She nodded before moving to stand next to Sam touching his arm slightly and pushing up the sleeve of his gray gym shirt, "How about you, Sam?"

"Uh, two-thirty," he mumbled, watching Santana's hand on his bicep.

"I can tell," she said in that low voice I only heard with the boys.

"We should probably let them exercise," I advised, less intrigued with watching her flirt than annoyed.

She looked to me and shrugged, "You're probably right."

"It's fine," Noah assured, "I don't mind you watching."

"I'm sure you don't," Santana smirked seductively, "But Rach and I are going to go for an early lunch."

"Bye," I waved to them, tugging her along. I ignored the wave she gave with her fingers before we were out of the room.

"You have the attention span of a goldfish," I pointed out as I drug her into another bathroom.

"Not my fault we ended up in a room full of eye candy," she shrugged.

"You could act with a little more tact," I supplied as I slipped into a stall, changing into my normal outfit, another skirt and button up, that Santana proceeded to unbutton when I stepped out of the bathroom.

"Tact is for people who care about appearances," she shrugged, "I care about getting laid."

"Are you going to change out of that?" I wondered a bit hopefully as I grabbed her top as Noah had.

She made a face before smoothing it down, "I might at the end of the day."

"Alright," I nodded, before letting her drag me out of the school.

She took me back to the bleachers. I wasn't exactly thrilled to be there but as we went underneath I was glad to see we weren't the only ones there. Three girls, who looked a little less than presentable, were under there. At first when they approached they didn't seem particularly thrilled to see us. A particularly smaller girl than the other two stepped forward as Santana led me under.

"What the hell is this? A Cheerio and hobbit? You're kind aren't welcome here," the smaller girl replied.

Santana stared at them blankly, "Now's not exactly the time to start this."

A bulkier black girl stepped forward, "Well when is the time? We've got all day."

"Listen," Santana started, "I was just locked in a goddamn boy's bathroom listening to her talk about musicals for two hours. My shit list has been steadily growing since I got to this godforsaken town, now if you really want on my list then you can be the first to get knocked the fuck off of it too."

"I don't like you," the smaller girl assured, but I saw the slight step she took backwards.

"I never said you had to, now give me a cigarette," Santana demanded.

They all stared at her blankly for a moment.

"You all look dirty and "rebellious," enough to have one goddamned cigarette," she growled.

The smaller girl pulled one out of a pocket before handing it to Santana and lighting it.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, you still don't like me, and I still don't care. Now go on your merry ways," she turned her back on them and came back to me.

"It wasn't that bad in the bathroom," I pouted.

She nodded, "I know. Don't listen to me."

She pulled herself up to sit on one of the braces as she smoked and I pointed out, "Those aren't the ones you usually smoke."

"Nope," she flicked some ashes to the side, "But asking for a cigar might have been a bit much."

I leaned against the brace and pulled her hand down, bringing her fingers with the cigarette to my lips with little resistance.

"Take it all the way," she mentioned and I nodded.

I felt the smoke fill my lungs and choke me slightly. I let Santana's hand go slightly and she pulled back just as I breathed the smoke out and choked back a cough.

"Better than last time," she smirked, but when she patted my back I couldn't hold back anymore.

She laughed and slipped from the brace to pat my back, "I should probably stop letting you do that."

I shook my head, "I'd get it if you'd let me practice." I brought her hand back up to take another drag, feeling her fingers against my lips as well.

"I'm pretty sure this goes against my job description," she mentioned before moving the hand at my mouth over to cup my cheek and make me face her. "Blow it out slowly," she instructed, pursing her lips in demonstration.

I nodded and copied her, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. My cheeks felt a bit warm under her touch.

"Good," she smiled before bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "I'm starting to see why your dad hates me though," she said it with a smile.

"He doesn't hate you," I argued half-heartedly.

"I let you smoke and drink. Pretty soon you'll be having sex with people whose last names you don't even know."

I blushed further at that, "I wouldn't go that far."

"Just admit it Rach," she dropped the cigarette and stomped it out before bringing her hand back up to my head to pull me forward as she kissed my forehead, "I've corrupted you."

I smiled at that, "You've just made me have fun in more unorthodox ways than I was used to."

"If that's what you want to call it," she teased just as the bell rang, "Come on, let's go find Matt."

I nodded and let her lead me to the cafeteria. We took seats with the football team. Mostly she sat between Sam and Puck, eating off of their plates. I'd never imagined fried, greasy potatoes could be sexy, but I'd underestimated her abilities. She was teasing the boys as she ran the food slowly past her lips to eat. Matt asked about my day so far and I decided not to tell him about the bathroom. When she'd finished the boys' food she came to sit with me.

"I'll get you lunch after school," she promised, "I wouldn't be shocked to find out the fries weren't made in bacon grease."

"That almost sounded sweet," I scoffed.

"Hey, how was the bathroom?" Azimio called from down the table.

I saw irritation flash in Santana's eyes as she turned back to him.

"Quinn said you might like it in the boys room," he mentioned.

"It didn't take you too long to get out did it?" The overly sweet voice came. "Strong guy like you got the door open pretty quickly, right?"

I had to slip my arms around her waist to keep her from jumping from the table at the blonde, "It won't take me nearly as long to fuck you up."

I didn't really keep her still very long, just the position with her legs straddling the table made it harder for her to move.

"Your shoes fit alright, don't they?" The girl smiled as Mercedes moved in front of her, a smirk of her own in place. "I mean, you know what they say about boys with big shoes?"

That's when Santana got out of my grip, lunging for the girl. Mercedes caught her easily, and was more than ready to throw her to the side when Brittany pulled the larger girl back.

"Mercedes let her go," the taller blonde demanded.

"Hell no, she needs to learn her place."

"She didn't do anything wrong to you," the blonde tugged at her friend again.

Santana took the distraction to slip out of the girl's grip and knock her out of the way. She was still going for Quinn. The sound of skin connecting with skin echoed through the room before an angry shriek replaced it.

We probably would have seen a lot more had Matt not gotten out of the trance that came along with girls fighting, long enough to grab Santana and carry her out of the cafeteria over his shoulder, with me following.

She still had enough aggression to lean over Matt's shoulder and yell, "That's how we do it in the Bronx."

When we were in the choir room he set her in a chair and she tried to head for the door again.

"You're from the Bronx?" I wondered.

"No," she scoffed, before a cocky smirk crossed her lips, "But it's more threatening than "that's how we do it when travelling cross country.""

I nodded understandingly, "You're going to get us kicked out of here."

"It's cool," Matt assured, "I've seen worse stuff happen here." He pulled his keys out of his pocket to hand to me, "But maybe you should take my truck and get lunch. Try this again another day."

Santana jumped up from her seat and took my keys, "Gladly."

"Thank you Matt, I, and I'm sure Santana is as well, am sorry about ruining your lunch."

He shrugged, and smiled, "No biggie." He leaned down and kissed my forehead, "Just don't tell Mom I let you get locked in a bathroom."

"Don't tell Dad Santana got into a fight," I looked back to her before correcting, "Or two and we have a deal."

He grinned before we left. Santana still somewhat fuming as her long stride carried her to the parking lot.

Santana was starting the car when we heard someone shouting. They called to us just as we pulled out of the spot. Santana groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Wait," the tall blonde called as she went to the driver side window, "I'm sorry about what Quinn and Mercedes did to you, they told me you guys would be able to ninja your way out like Mike."

"What?" I questioned from the passenger seat.

"I'm sure they did," Santana rolled her eyes.

"They said you'd come find me," she shrugged, "And then Mercedes was being mean to you like she's really from Lima Heights Adjacent." The girl had a full on pout now.

"So?" Santana demanded boredly.

"I was wondering if I could come with you."

"Shouldn't you stay for your classes?" I wondered.

She shrugged, "My teachers think I do better when I'm not in class."

Santana seemed thoughtful for a moment, and I honestly thought she was going to say no when she looked to me.

I shrugged and nodded before scooting to the middle seat.

The blonde clapped before going around the truck to slide in next to me. "So where are we going?"

"Breadsticks," Santana declared.


	9. I'm Just Looking For A Silver Lining

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

"Who's your friend Rach?" Daddy asked, past his computer screen.

I couldn't stifle the slight giggle that bubbled up at that.

"Cheerleaders got to her," Matt explained to Daddy.

Aunt V came into the living room and gushed, "Oh my, you look gorgeous. You usually look so moody with your hair in your face. You should let me do your makeup to draw some attention to your lips and eyes." She was cupping the girl's face.

"Um," Santana couldn't really do or say much.

"I don't see this lasting," I explained, "Santana didn't get on very well with the other cheerleaders."

She nodded but let the girl go, "Either way, you should both let me help you out. I don't see either of my in-laws being much help with that."

"Hey," Daddy called.

She waved him off, "Other than that, how did you two like McKinley, did you check out Glee?"

"It was alright, we sat in on a class although we left early. The cafeteria didn't have many vegan options and Matt was kind enough to allow Santana and her friend to take me to lunch."

"From what I hear that school can get pretty intense," Aunt V nodded.

"If that's the word you want to use," Santana muttered.

"You really do look nice," Daddy tossed in, finally looking up, "And are you doing something different Rach? You look nice."

Santana gave me a smug smirk.

"Thank you Daddy. Hopefully we can check out the school again another day," I smiled at Matt.

"Of course, any excuse to hang out with my favorite cousin," he grinned before nodding to Santana and Daddy and kissing his mother.

"Come on, let's go change before that goes to your head," I urged Santana to the room.

She rolled her eyes, "You just want to get me naked."

I couldn't force out any actual comment as I blushed, but I heard Daddy laughing hysterically as we made our way out of the living room.

}{

Santana took her time changing out of the uniform. Pulling the top over her head and feeling the fabric before folding it and dropping it on top of her open duffel bag. She dug through for a tight black t-shirt but she still seemed disappointed in the fit. She slipped out of the skirt almost grudgingly. She didn't fold it but she let the pleats fall over her fingers before she dropped it into the bag as well. She came over to me and sat on the couch. I couldn't fight the urge to pull the hair-tie out of her, and even smiled when she ran her fingers through it.

"So, are you even going to give that uniform back?" I wondered.

She shrugged and slumped down in her seat, "I look good in it."

"You do," I agreed.

"And I'm sure they have plenty," She reasoned.

"I'm sure," I nodded.

"And did you see how the boys were checking me out?" She was smirking now.

I nodded although I wasn't nearly as pleased with that as she was.

"And Brittany?" She added, her smirk softening to a smile.

I felt even more upset with that. "What are you even doing with her? She locked us in the bathroom."

"I really don't think she knew what was going on," she defended.

"You weren't saying that in the bathroom," I pointed out.

"Still-" she shrugged.

"Or is this just another one of those times I shouldn't listen to you?" I huffed, not even sure why I'd grown so upset.

"Rach," she called sliding her arm around me, "I didn't mean any of that. I couldn't have picked anyone else I'd rather sit in a bathroom for hours with. You know that."

I couldn't help but crack a smile, "Whatever."

"Besides, we're going to work on having fun like we talked about in the bathroom," she kissed my forehead before going to get her phone, "Puck wants us to come over."

"Is that really a good idea?" I wondered.

She nodded and pulled me up, "Of course it is. I'm getting laid and you're making out with-" she thought it over, "I don't really care who but it's happening."

"Santana," I groaned as she pulled me to the door.

}{

"Thank you for driving us Matt, are you sure you don't want to join us?" I wondered as I slipped out of the cab of the truck.

He shook his head, his usual smile in place, "It's cool guys, I have some homework I need to finish. Just call me if you need a ride home."

"Alright, thank you," I closed the door before waving him off.

I followed Santana to the door and she knocked before Puck was at the door, leering at her as usual.

"What's up babes?" He greeted.

"I was just about to ask," Santana mentioned in that overly sexual voice she always used with the boys before slipping into the house.

"Hello Noah," I greeted before following.

He led us to his basement where Sam and Finn were playing a video game, beers in hand. She sat and played a few rounds with them, feigning ignorance as they "taught" her how to play. I couldn't help but laugh as she rolled her eyes and "figured out," how to do a fatality. It was amusing. I wasn't as interested in pretending to be bad at the game when she gave me the controller. Sam was the only one who didn't huff or get confused when I beat him. I was watching Santana play Sam from her seat on Noah's lap when I started talking to Finn.

"So, you're like really good," He mentioned.

"Yeah, a friend taught me how to play, although I'm not a fan of particularly violent games."

"Cool," he nodded, confusion crossing his features.

"So, um, how long have you and Quinn been together," I wondered, curiously.

He rolled his eyes in thought, "Um, since freshman year so three years."

"That's a long time," I mumbled.

"I guess," he shrugged, "But I've been feeling kind of different lately, ya know?"

"I don't, care to explain?" I wondered.

"Quinn's been especially bossy lately, and usually it's not a problem, but I guess I've just been thinking about breaking it off."

"Oh," I hated the slightly hopeful feeling I got, especially as it masked the guilt that welled up as well. "Why would you do that?"

He shrugged, "Guess I've been thinking about seeing other people." Even the tips of his ears flushed as his gaze left mine.

"Oh," I couldn't think of any other time I'd been at such a loss for words.

I was grateful though when Santana took the attention off of me, "Finn, you in?" She held out the controller for him.

"Uh, yeah," he got up and took the controller as he passed her. She took his seat, "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing important," I shrugged.

She made a face before moving closer to me, "I know I told you I wouldn't let Quinn touch you, and I'm not the one who should be telling you who you can and can't hook up with-" I was going to correct her but she went on, "But just remember, we're leaving. Once we get on that plane we get to wipe our hands clean of this hellhole, but whatever mess we leave behind they have to live with."

"I'm not doing anything," I mumbled, probably trying to assure myself more than her.

She looked me over, not believing it, but she sighed, "Someone's going to get hurt Rachel, and I'd rather it not be you."

"I'll be fine Santana," I assured.

"If you say so," She nodded and kissed my forehead before getting up, a smirk coming back to her face and visibly relaxing, "I'm going upstairs, Puck is going to show me his guitar."

I scoffed at that, and reminded, "Failed rock-star career."

"Ssh," she hissed although she stifled a laugh, "I'm trying not to think about that."

"Don't do anything stupid," I warned.

"I won't, and I hope you don't either," it was a final warning before she went back to the boys, catching Noah's attention before she asked Sam and Finn, "Keep an eye on my girl for me, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Totally," Finn agreed, but they went back to their game.

I watched Santana climb the stairs tugging the taller boy along by his hand, that same nameless feeling build up in me again. I tried to ignore it as I went to sit with the boys while they played. I got in a few more games. I did my best to keep Sam between me and Finn the whole time. I decided I'd be fine with a few drinks as I sipped from both boys cans, although eventually I found it hard to focus on the game. It seemed like no time at all when Santana finally came back downstairs.

"You still playing or you want to go, Rach?" She asked as she sat down next to me.

"Can we go watch a movie?" I asked, a goofy grin overtaking my features.

"Of course," she nodded, mildly amused.

I tried to stand up but almost stumbled, glad when she caught me.

"Shit," she laughed slightly, "You guys got her to drink?"

"Were we not supposed to?" Finn asked.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled.

"Can one of you drive us home?" She asked.

I let her hold me closely, kind of enjoying the contact. I rested my head on her shoulder as her arms stayed around my waist.

"I didn't have too much," Sam offered, "Puck let me see your keys."

"'S at a good idea?" I wondered.

"How much have you had to drink?" Santana asked.

"This is my third," Sam shook the can next to him and we could all hear plenty sloshing around, "And it's only 'cause Rachel killed my last."

"Perfect," she took me with her to take the can from his hand and she downed it quickly.

Sam got up, and Noah offered his keys before taking his place in front of the game.

"See you around," Santana called.

"Catch you later babe," Noah replied.

"Bye San, Rachel," Finn called.

"Bye," I lifted my head from Santana's shoulder to wave.

"Come on lover girl," she urged, tugging me along.

"I should be calling you that, huh?" I mumbled as we followed Sam to the car.

Both of them helped me up the stairs before we could head outside to the truck.

"So, are you guys going to homecoming?" Sam finally asked.

"Homecoming?" Santana repeated curiously.

"Yeah," he nodded as he pulled the car out of Noah's driveway, "It's coming up in a couple of weeks."

"Sounds interesting," she mumbled.

"I wouldn't mind goin'," I slurred slightly.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Santana laughed.

"Would you be going with Puck?" Sam asked.

She shrugged, "I don't see myself going with a date. I'd have to watch her all night. And even then, I'm not looking for much more than a good time while I'm here. It seemed like Puck could get that."

Sam nodded silently.

"How about you? You got a date?" She wondered, rubbing my back gently, "I mean I'm sure you've got girls lining up to get up on them wax lips."

He blushed slightly, "Uh, well, I've had my eye on a couple girls but they aren't interested."

"You seem nice Sam," I mentioned, still clinging to Santana, "You should date a nice girl."

"Um thanks," he mumbled.

We pulled up to the house and Santana helped me out of the truck. "Thanks Sam, have a good night. Hopefully one of your girls will get their act together before homecoming."

"Thanks," he replied, "Hope Rachel feels better."

"She's a lightweight but I'll get her through this," she assured him before letting him drive away. I let out a small shriek as she scooped me up into her arms, "Let's put your acting skills to work. Think you can pretend to sleep?"

"Uh huh," I nuzzled her chest slightly before relaxing into her arms.

She talked her way past everyone, claiming I'd fallen asleep in the truck. When we got to the room she only made me stand for a moment while she pulled the bed from the couch. I sat on the edge of the bed while she put in one of my DVDs and came back to me with some of my pajamas in hand. I was hesitant at first but let her help me out of my outfit and into the more comfortable attire. Having her so close brought up memories of the last time I was inebriates.

"San, will you dance with me?" I asked as she tugged down my shirt.

"I thought you wanted to watch a movie," she mumbled past a small smile.

"I do," I nodded as I slipped my arms around her neck, "But last time we drank we danced too. And I really liked dancing with you."

"Maybe tomorrow," she assured urging me to lie down, "You might fall now."

I tried to remain sitting up but ended up pulling her down on top of me.

She caught herself before she fell completely on top of me. "Rach," she breathed, barely a few inches from my face.

I licked my lips slightly as I looked up at her, taking in the tint of her cheeks.

"Come on," she mumbled as she moved off of me onto the bed, "Watch your movie."

I felt a bit crestfallen as I watched her move to the other side of the bed. It took me a moment to get up and under the blankets and she eventually helped me. She stiffened when I moved to lay my head on her chest but eventually relaxed and slid her arm around my shoulder.

"Thank you, San," I mumbled sleepily, my awareness of the movie already lost.

"Never a problem Rach," she mumbled back as she gently rubbed my shoulder.

}{

The next day I mostly stayed in bed while Santana doted on me, more or less. She'd huff and complain every time I asked her to get me water, Advil, or anything else but she'd get it quickly. She teased me but she still let me rest. She even put on movies for me until I was feeling better. We were sitting in the bed, in almost the same positions we'd been in in the bathroom; my head on her lap as she brushed my hair lightly with her fingers.

"I didn't get treated nearly as nicely for my first hangovers," she mumbled as her head lolled backwards onto the back of the couch.

"How were you treated then?" I wondered into her lap, turning my shoulders so I could look up at her, excited to hear about her.

She scoffed, "My uncle left me sleeping in the seat of his car and decided that setting off the alarm was a brilliant idea." She looked down to me scowling at the memory, "And told me not to throw up in his car."

"Did you?" I wondered.

"No," she shook her head, "I got the door open."

I shook my head slightly amused, "How old were you?"

"Um," she rolled her eyes up in thought, "Fifteen?"

I gaped at her, "That young?"

She shrugged, "He didn't care as long as I didn't get arrested, pregnant, or like lose a limb or anything." She smirked at my shock, "I'd say I'm pretty good about all of those."

"We'll see at your sonogram," I rolled my eyes, moving back to looking at the screen, "Now, I don't see you being a stay at home mom, would that mean you'd bring the baby along with us?"

She shoved my shoulder playfully and huffed, "That's not funny."

"Maybe not to you, but I'm sure Cosette would love it." I nuzzled her lap gently, my eyes on the screen.

"I don't like either of you anymore," she mumbled.

"That's why you're watching musicals with me," I smirked although I could feel her eyes on me.

}{

We did go back to school the next day. Santana and I mostly sat under the bleachers though, she said it was to keep a low profile until after school since I seemed so intent on going to glee club. The girls from before still didn't seem pleased to see us but none of them seemed to mind enough to say anything to Santana. She bought more cigars and relinquished one every so often to let me try making the rings like she could. In all honesty, I hated the taste, but I liked the idea of her letting me do something so rebellious, I mean, I knew my Daddies had my best interest at heart, but I had fun doing things they certainly wouldn't allow with Santana. She thought ahead and brought some fruit for me to eat around lunch, and Brittany even joined us; and although I didn't like witnessing her flirtations with Santana but I did like watching her giggle and joke with the girl, and not the overly flirtatious giggle she did for the boys.

"Your cat smokes cigars?" Santana asked, an amused smirk on her face as a giggle bubbled up.

"Mhum," the blonde hummed past her milk carton before putting it down and reaching for her backpack to pull out a familiar package, except hers was an orange color. "I took these from him this morning. Do you want 'em?"

"Sure," Santana took them and read them, "Peach."

"Can I try one?" I wondered as I looked it over.

"You're going to ruin your voice," she warned as she pulled one out.

I scowled at the thought. I'd initially been the one arguing against smoking.

"Oh, you sing?" Brittney seemed excited at the thought.

"Oh, yes, I sing and act," I nodded, "I was supposed to go to glee club today."

"Really?" The girl clapped before moving to hug me, "I can't wait to hear you sing today then."

"You're in glee club?" I wondered.

"Totally, Q, M, and I are always there," she beamed.

"Shit," Santana muttered as the cigar dropped slightly between her lips.

"I promise they won't be as mean," the bubbly girl assured, "Mr. Schue usually makes 'em behave."

"Do you really want to go?" Santana asked me.

"I suppose if there will be a teacher present," I nodded, "And Matt should be able to keep you out of trouble."

"I didn't start anything," she pointed out.

"Oh," Brittany shrugged, "It doesn't take much to upset Quinn and Mercedes."

"I can tell," Santana scowled, her mood already diminished.

At the end of the day we headed to the choir room. Santana seemed a bit turned around since the last time she'd been there she had been carried over Matt's shoulder but we made it alright. We sat by Matt as he joked with Mike and Sam. Santana easily slipped into the conversation with them. I noticed Sam seemed pretty interested in her, but only for a moment before everyone's attention was at the door. Finn came in looking guilty and somewhat flustered as Quinn bombarded him with questions. He tried shrugging them off and answering but it just made her angrier. When he looked up and a small smile came to his face the angry blonde caught on quickly.

"Her? Finn, you can't be serious. You can't just leave me for some bimbo that just ran into town."

"No, Quinn I-" he tried to amend, his eyes falling to the blonde already moving towards us.

"Who do you think you are? Coming here like this is alright and ruining my relationship?" She demanded with stress showing as her eyes glistened with unshed ears. "He's my boyfriend. He's taking me to homecoming." She was yelling now.

Santana was between us in an instant, holding the girl back with her hand clutching the collar of her uniform, "Back off Barbie."

"No, she doesn't get to do this." The blonde cried again, and guilt surged through my whole body.

"I-I-I'm s-so sorry, I di-didn't mean to-" I stuttered out, not sure what to do.

"Didn't mean to ruin my life?" The girl demanded still trying to make her way around Santana.

Mercedes came in on Noah's arm and Brittany talking animatedly with a boy in a wheelchair, but that all died down as they saw what was going on. Noah held Mercedes back from joining in.

"What's going on here?" A voice called from the hallway. A curly-haired man in a vest came in looking between everyone.

"Nothing," Quinn finally slumped in Santana's grasp, "Nothing worth your trouble Schue."

The man looked to everyone for some answers although nobody seemed too willing to give anything up.

I could only watch, with slight worry, as Noah let Mercedes go so she and Brittany could retrieve Quinn. They led the girl out of the room but not without apologetic looks from Brittany and loathing ones from Mercedes. Quinn couldn't muster much to cover up the broken look that had taken her over.

"Alright, everyone let's take a seat," the teacher urged, trying to gain control before hell broke loose again.

Noah and Finn came over to sit with the rest of the boys, although Finn's shoulders slumped slightly. Noah tried apologizing to Santana but she waved him off as she took her seat next to me, still watching the door and keeping her posture tensed. I expected to see anger there, even annoyance, but all I saw there was pity.

"So, it seems we have some new guests," the teacher mumbled as he looked around, "Who are you guys?"

"Um," I finally drew my full attention back to the man before us, "I'm Rachel Berry."

"That name sounds familiar," he mentioned.

"She's kind of a big thing in New York," Santana pointed out.

He squinted for a second before a smile came to his face, "Oh, right, I've heard of you. Well, it's a pleasure having you among our glee club, for, um…"

"Just go with it, the other teachers are," Santana assured.

"Who are you?" He wondered.

"Supporting character, forget you've even seen me," she waved him off.

"San," I chastised.

"Do you sing too?" He questioned.

"Yes," came my response at the same time as her, "No."

"Well," he seemed thoroughly confused, "I suppose you guys could join in our latest lesson."

"Lesson?" I questioned.

"Every week we have a lesson and we come up and perform a song pertaining to it. For example, this week's lesson is breaking down walls. Would anyone like to come up and demonstrate?"

Noah raised his hand, "I've got it Mr. Schue."

"Alright Puck, come on up," the man called as he took his own seat.

Noah went up to the center of the room before everyone else. He signaled to the band behind him and they started the music. He waved up Matt and Mike as they moved behind him. They started to sing, and though I'll admit his style was a bit more intense than I was used to, his performance was wonderful. He didn't really strike me as the type to go for the temptations but he and the boys did well. After he finished and the other two sat down I expected him to follow but he didn't. He looked so vulnerable, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shrugged and nodded at the applause of his peers.

"So I guess I should explain why I did Papa Was a Rolling Stone," he shrugged again, "Well, my dad left when I was pretty young. He kind of wanted to be a rocker but he wasn't exactly around for me and my sister. I don't think he's actually dead, but I don't have a clue. It's not my favorite subject, but there ya go, walls down and whatever."

"Thank you so much Puck, you did an awesome job," he clapped the boy on the back as he took his place at the head of the room once more. "So, do you girls think you'd be interested in trying?"

"Absolutely," I nodded, beaming slightly while I elbowed Santana for scoffing.

"Alright, well, if nobody else wants to go then I guess you guys can head home early," he released us and everyone was up.

"That was wonderful Noah," I smiled at the boy.

The cocky smirk was back to his lips, "Thanks."

"Pretty good," Santana nodded.

"You know it babe," he slipped his arm over her shoulder.

"Puck," she asked, as she licked her lips, "What are you doing for homecoming?"

"Besides winning?" He grinned, "Probably going to sleep."

"Not going to the dance?" She wondered.

"Probably if 'Cedes makes me," he mumbled before his eyes widened and he realized what he said, "I mean-"

"Cool it lover boy," she waved him off, "I just need two tickets."

"You got a date?" He wondered.

"Don't need one, I'm taking her," she pointed to me.

"You are?" I wondered.

"Oh, of course then, but you could probably just crash," he shrugged.

She nodded, "I could but I'd have to listen to her if we got kicked out."

"Alright babes," he nodded. "I'll work on it. Catch you around," he waved to us before leaving.

I didn't notice Sam coming behind us, "So you're going with Puckerman?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "I'm taking Rachel."

"Oh," he looked thoughtful at that, "I'll see you two later." Before heading out.

"You two ready to head home?" Matt asked.

I was going to say yes when Santana cut me off, "Totally, but I need to talk to Rach. We'll meet you at the truck."

He nodded before running off and we could hear him joking down the halls with the others.

"What did you want to talk about?" I wondered.

She didn't respond until we couldn't hear the others anymore, "You saw that right?"

"You're going to need to be more specific Santana," I mumbled, but I sort of already knew.

She smirked bitterly, "Rachel, you're too old for games like that. You know what I'm talking about."

I dropped my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge that she was right.

"You're moving into dangerous grounds," she shook her head, "You may not be the one telling Finn to leave Quinn but you aren't telling him not to."

"He said he was going to break up with her anyway," I muttered, trying to ease my own guilt.

She sighed, "What did he say?"

"He said that things had been feeling different lately-"

She stopped me to question, "As in, since you got here, maybe?"

"You don't know that," I hadn't meant to raise my voice.

Her voice only softened, "Rach, you saw her right? Almost crying?"

I nodded silently looking down like a scolded child.

"Next question," She sighed before coming forward to slide her arm over my shoulder and kiss my forehead comfortingly, "Do you really want to be with a guy who'd do that?"

I shook my head slightly, "I suppose not."

"Don't be the other girl Rach, and don't be that girl," she warned before letting me go. A comforting smile took the place of the harsh expression that had been there before.

We were going to walk out the door when a wall of cold hit our faces. I almost felt the hatred emanating off of Santana, but I couldn't focus on it nearly as much as the slight sting of my eyes. I reached up to wipe them as I heard retreating footsteps and laughter.

"Fuck," Santana shouted, and I expected to see her chasing after the culprits, instead she was brushing it out of my face.

"What is this?" I asked trying to shake some of it off.

"Slushy," she mumbled as she tried cleaning me off a bit.

}{

The ride home was uncomfortable. Santana and I sat in the back of the truck rather than dripping all over Matt's seats. I had to listen to the annoying sound of her licking her fingers. It made me a bit anxious to watch her doing it. She laughed as she caught me staring at her as she sucked the red substance from her fingers.

"That's disgusting," I made a face at her.

"I'm just looking for a silver lining," she shrugged.

"I'm going to be washing my hair forever," I groaned.

"I'll help you," she offered. I looked over at her to see a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" I asked, backing away.

"I was just wondering," She moved closer, "If by chance," she slipped her arm over my shoulder, "They thought far enough ahead to use some sort of berry flavor."

"What?" I looked at her confused.

She only smirked before tugging me towards her to press a wet and sticky kiss to my cheek. I couldn't fight the squeal as I struggled playfully against her. I already felt sticky enough without us literally sticking together. When she did finally let me go I couldn't help but giggle along with her.

"You're horrible," I smiled at her.

"You love me," she assured.

}{

"This is what happens in high schools now?" Daddy asked. "I can see why you don't want to go."

"It's not as bad as it looks," I assured trying, and failing, to brush my bangs out of my face.

"And where was your so-called bodyguard?" Dad wondered, clearly not pleased with the situation.

"Next to me," I pointed out, "Trying to get the slushy out of my eyes."

He didn't look any happier, "And now?"

"I'd assume in the shower, they got her hair pretty thoroughly."

Daddy nodded, "So, good day or bad day?"

Dad could only gape at him.

"I got to go to glee, and I suppose as long as I don't have to cut this out of my hair I can say good day."

"That's good," he nodded.

"And Santana's going to take me to homecoming," I'd almost forgotten about that.

"She's what?" Dad glared.

"She's getting us tickets," I almost bounced with excitement, "And although I'm not a big fan of football I wouldn't be opposed to the going to the game. I can go, right?"

"With her?" Dad asked.

"Of course," Daddy smiled.

"Even if a boy were to ask me Santana would be there anyway," I pointed out.

"This isn't time for her to go to dances and party," Dad ground out, "And I doubt she could do much actual guarding in a dress and heels."

"You're absolutely right Mr. Berry, which is why I'll be going in my usual jeans and sneakers," Santana assured, coming into the room as she dried the dark hair that hung over her shoulder.

"What?" I gasped, "Santana, you can't, you have to get a gown and put your hair up and do your make up so we can take pictures."

She shook her head and smiled, "He's right, I can't watch out for you if I'm dancing."

I was going to remind her, "But you ha-"

"Have to do my job," she cut me off before I could admit to our outing with Cosette in front of Dad. "You'll have just as much fun and I'm sure one of the boys will be asking you any day now. We can even find out about going to the mall to get your dress."

I couldn't fight the pout that took over my face at that. It was childish but I truly was disappointed that she wouldn't be partaking in the dance in the same way as me.


	10. Fuck Being Traditionally Beautiful

**A/N: Umm, I'm starting to hate Lima myself, just saying. I feel like it's just gotten kind of fluffy but I hope you guys enjoy the loads and loads of plot I threw at you. I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review. Sorry for you guys who don't like the AU meeting Cannon, but whatever, this was how it's been going in my head so this is how it goes on paper.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

The rest of the week consisted of us laying low during the day and going to glee in the afternoon. We sat in on a few classes but most of our time was spent out at the bleachers. Sometimes someone would skip a class or two with us and while I warned against it, it definitely made the experience more interesting. Sam and Noah would bring their guitars, Brittany was fairly amusing on her own, and Matt would bring assignments Santana would end up doing. It was sort of fun. The worst parts of the days were when we'd run across Quinn and Santana would draw me behind her. She went out of her way to not cross the paths of Mercedes, Dave, and Azimio. I hated how Quinn glared at me, we'd pass her in the hall and even if I couldn't see it after Santana pulled me away I'd still feel the iciness of her gaze.

"Chill," Santana mumbled in my ear as she passed.

"But-" I tried looking back.

Santana would only move between us again, urging me to walk to our next destination, "But she's mad at the wrong person."

I couldn't see past Santana, instead I just kept walking.

She didn't seem very interested in the glee lesson and I tried to talk her into doing it. She didn't exactly want to but I wore her down. She wouldn't tell me what song she was doing; instead she'd go to Noah's once she got me home. She assured me they were actually working on a song but I wasn't exactly excited about her going over to his house. I begged her to tell me what song she planned on singing but she wouldn't tell and neither would Noah. I hadn't realized I'd gotten so used to having her around until I had to find something to do. I went with Matt to play video games at Sam's house once, and he asked a few questions about Santana. More interesting was the night Aunt V showed me her high school yearbook.

I walked into the living room, hoping to hang out with someone, "Hello Aunt V."

"Hey Rach," she smiled up from the book on her lap.

"What're you looking at?" I wondered.

She patted the seat cushion next to her, "My old yearbook. Come here I've wanted to ask you and Santana something."

"Santana's working on her glee project with Noah Puckerman," I pointed out as I sat next to her, looking at the pictures.

"I'll ask her later than," she flipped through some pages until she found a particular one. She traced her fingers down the names at the sides before sliding across to a woman and asking, "Does she look familiar?"

She did. At least, her features did. I saw soft lips pulled up into the genuinely happy smile I'd only witnessed a few times. Comforting brown eyes beamed up at me. The only off-putting thing was that these features all looked up from beneath different hair than I remembered and darker skin. I looked up from the picture to Aunt V, confusion obvious on my face.

"That's Maricel Williams," she explained. "She was a friend of mine in high school. We sort of lost touch after graduation, but I heard about her every once in a while. She went to a state school and met her husband. They had a little girl."

"You think-"

She nodded slightly, "Santana looks so similar. Every time I see her I can't help but think of how familiar she looks so I finally went through my yearbook. Do you know anything about her parents?"

I shook my head, letting my eyes fall back to the picture, "She never really mentions them. She lived with her uncle before she moved with us."

Aunt V only nodded, "I could be wrong. I'll ask her some time."

"Alright," I looked back to the picture, "I think I'm going to go back to the room though."

"Alright sweetheart," she nodded before flipping through the book.

I went to the room to open my computer, still looking for a distraction. I couldn't keep my mind from wandering back to the picture of the girl who looked so much like Santana. It resulted in me staring at the same assignment until the very girl I'd been thinking of came home and sat next to me pulling me from my thoughts and the computer from my lap.

"Did you just start?" She wondered.

"Excuse me?" I was too focused on her features, distorted in concentration as she read the assignment.

"Did you just start? You're usually pretty good at English." She answered a few questions.

"Oh," I looked to it, "Yes." I moved to try and look like I was more focused on the work than her face, "How was your night?"

"Pretty relaxed," she shrugged, "Puck was babysitting so we spent the night working on the song."

"And you still won't tell me what it is?" I pleaded, looking back to her.

She smiled a shadow of the smile the girl in the yearbook wore and shook her head, "You have to wait like everyone else."

I couldn't help but pout as she laughed, her smile growing. I was still curious, but I wasn't sure how to bring up the question of her parents; instead I just sat with her, talking about playing video games with Noah's younger sister and finding her music.

}{

The day I was finally going to be able to listen to Santana's song I spent the day on the edge of my seat, but she was constantly anxious. It was Friday and she had on her leather jacket. She hadn't been wearing it very much lately. She was especially careful to avoid anybody with the familiar gas-station cups. Nobody came to the bleachers to skip with us and I didn't urge her to come with me to find a class we could sit in. We sat silently on the bleachers, her back against the seat behind her, her head tilted back as if she were staring up but her eyes were closed. She'd borrowed Noah's IPod and had one ear bud in. I watched her curiously; taking in every detail. She was so lost in her thoughts.

"San," I called gently.

She didn't respond right away.

"Santana," I called again.

She hummed a response, letting me know she was listening.

"What're you thinking about?"

She finally opened her eyes, but other than that she didn't move.

"You just seem-"

"I'm going to ask you to do me a favor," she reached up to pull the ear bud from her ear, "And by ask I mean you're going to do it."

She didn't really give me much choice but to nod.

"Don't ask me about the stupid song," she stated.

"But-"

She cut me off, "I might tell you about it, I might not. I haven't decided yet, but either way I'll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know."

I nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she mumbled before replacing her ear bud and pulling a cigar from her pocket.

}{

We slipped into the room right away. If anything Santana had gotten more stressed out as the day went on. She was speaking even less and the boys weren't exactly urging her, especially Noah, who kept throwing her glances. Quinn, Mercedes, and Brittany came in. The shorter blonde and Brunette sat on the other side of the room while the dancer gave Santana a small smile before following her friends. Finn gave me a smile as well before looking away guiltily, when I looked up I saw Santana nodding her head to the side of the room Quinn went to sit on. Eventually, everyone seemed to be in the room chattering lightly when Mr. Schuester came in.

"Hey guys, hope you all had a good week. Why don't we just jump into this? Does anyone have a song?"

Santana didn't raise her hand right away.

"Anybody?" He asked again.

"Santana does," Noah announced, bumping the girl's shoulder before dropping some papers onto her lap and grinning, "Got 'em printed for you."

She gave him a silent glare before shrugging, "I guess I do."

"Alright well come on up," he waved her up, a slightly unnerving smile on his face as she went up.

She handed the music to the guy before pulling a wooden stool up to where the teacher had just been standing. She pulled her jacket off and sat it on the stool, revealing how particularly small and vulnerable she looked for once. She pulled her hair out of the bun and let it fall over her shoulders before brushing it to one side. She picked up the jacket and replaced it on her lap as she sat down. She seemed to be struggling to keep her back straight as she spoke, more to the floor than her audience, "So, this is stupid or whatever but Rachel wouldn't leave me alone about it."

"Whatever helps you Santana," Schuester nodded.

She signaled for the blonde man at the piano to start playing and the sound filled the room.

"Back when I was a child  
>Before life removed all the innocence<br>My father would lift me high  
>And dance with my mother and me<br>And then  
>Spin me around 'till I fell asleep<br>Then up the stairs he would carry me  
>And I knew for sure<br>I was loved"

She was fidgeting slightly. I watched as she played with the collar of the jacket. She was doing her best to keep her back straight and keep her voice up. Her hair had fallen over half of her face at some point.

"If I could get another chance  
>Another walk<br>Another dance with him  
>I'd play a song that would never ever end<br>How I'd love love love  
>To dance with my father again"<p>

Her shoulders began slumping slightly. She was wringing the jacket in her hands as she paused.

"When I and my mother  
>Would disagree<br>To get my way I would run  
>From her to him<br>He'd make me laugh just to comfort me  
>yeah yeah<br>Then finally make me do  
>Just what my mama said<br>Later that night when I was asleep  
>He left a dollar under my sheet<br>Never dreamed that he  
>Would be gone from me"<p>

I saw the shadow of Maricel's bright smile again. She looked like she was remembering something as she began the verse but the memory seemed to have dissipated as she reached the last line.

"If I could steal one final glance  
>When final step<br>One final dance with him  
>I'd play a song that would never ever end<br>Cause I'd love love love to  
>Dance with my father again"<p>

"Every night I fall asleep  
>And this is all I ever dream"<p>

Santana's song came to a subtle end. She sat on the stool still playing with the jacket. Nobody said or did anything until she stood up, twisting it over her shoulders before slipping it on. When she looked up to everyone her face was the same mask of boredom it usually was. Everyone started clapping as she came to reclaim her seat next to me. Noah and Sam patted her on the back while I could only watch her with eyes full of questions I wasn't supposed to ask and hope, or maybe wait, for answers to the questions I couldn't voice. I couldn't pull my eyes away from her, even as Mr. Schuester discussed what we supposedly learned from the lesson. He thanked Santana and everyone else who'd performed earlier that week before wishing everyone a good weekend. I let Santana lead me silently to Matt's truck. He caught on quickly to the subject we were avoiding.

"Are you guys doing anything this weekend?" He wondered as he drove us home.

She shrugged slightly, "I was going to see if Rachel wanted to go dress shopping."

"Oh, you guys are going to homecoming?" He grinned.

"Yes," I nodded, "Santana asked Noah to get us some tickets."

"Great," he beamed, "You two got dates yet?"

She shook her head, "I'm just going with her, and I'm hoping that dope Finn doesn't ask her."

I blushed at that and pouted.

"He's not that bad of a guy," Matt shrugged, but even I could tell he understood. "You two can borrow the truck tomorrow if you need it."

"That'd be wonderful, thank you Matt," I pulled on a smile.

}{

Santana and I fell into our usual patterns now that she wasn't working on her song with Noah. We talked and did my assignments. She really just avoided the topic of music all together. We were in the kitchen working as she made us food; rather, she read the back of a package of tortillas and promised they'd make a perfect substitute for bread before slathering them in peanut butter and jelly. I was skeptical but took the offered food finding I quite enjoyed it although I made sure to read the package of my own accord. We sat at the bar and stared at the computer screen.

"It's not five," she corrected.

"It's five," I stated, redoing the math.

"It's not five," she stated, not even bothering to do the math.

"It is," I was still doing the work.

"Then click submit," she challenged.

I stopped doing the work to glare at her before hovering the mouse over the submit button.

"Do it," she smirked.

"And what do I get if I'm right?" I questioned.

"Ignoring the fact that I just made you lunch?" She scoffed, "How about a good grade?"

I shook my head and thought for a moment before growing a bit serious. "Will you tell me about the song?"

Her features visibly darkened at that. I almost expected her to be angry when she spoke but she wasn't. It was more of a warning when she mumbled, "Rachel."

"Please Santana," I pleaded, turning away from the computer now, "Just tell me something about it?"

Her eyes moved to the screen now and I expected her to say no. "Answer the question."

I watched her for a bit longer before clicking submit. The computer seemed to take forever before the page loaded. I could only watch as the next page came up, the same question in place, an angry red X alerting me to the fact that I'd gotten the question wrong. I heard the squeak of the stool on the tile as she got up to leave. Guilt flooded over me for the umpteenth time since we'd gotten to Lima. I couldn't make myself watch her retreating form.

"It was his jacket," she tossed over her shoulder before she disappeared entirely.

Santana skipped dinner that night. I went to the bed to find her in the bed. She didn't even pretend to sleep she just ignored me and continued texting with her back to me. I wasn't used to her ignoring me like that; usually I at least had some of her attention. I watched the flickering light of her phone and listened to the clicking of her thumbs over the keyboard.

"I'm sorry," I finally mumbled.

The sound of the phone stopped for a moment and she lowered it so I couldn't see the glow for a moment.

"I shouldn't have asked."

She still didn't say anything before the clicking began again.

I sighed and let myself drop onto the bed, resigning to a fitful sleep.

}{

I woke up alone; a little worried about where Santana might be. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, glad to find her there talking with Aunt V over coffee and oatmeal. She didn't exactly address me so much as she pointed to the pot on the stove. I grabbed a bowl and filled it on my own before joining them, leaning on the bar as I ate. Aunt V greeted me before continuing their discussion. I caught on right away, a little surprised at Santana's willingness to talk about it.

"You're just the all-American girl aren't you?" Aunt V teased.

Santana smiled bashfully, "No, I'm not all that."

"You sing, you play sports, you're gorgeous, smart, and charming," Aunt V listed, "Is there anything you can't do?"

"She's pretty bad at history," I pointed out.

Santana nodded and lifted her coffee mug to her lips.

"Nobody uses that," she laughed. "Really though, you're just a very impressive person. Rachel, did you know she could sing?"

I nodded, looking to her curiously, "I've told her before but she didn't seem interested."

"I'm a bodyguard," she shrugged, "I like my job. It's gotten me a good friend," she waved her mug towards me, "And I've travelled far more than I would have if I'd just gone to school."

I blushed at that, feeling guilt swell in me once more. I didn't know if she was admitting it or throwing it in my face.

"I suppose you're right, and while college might have been a beneficial experience, it's good that you've found your calling so young, and a friend in my niece," she beamed at both of us.

"Thank you," Santana smiled back to her politely.

"Well, I hope you two have a good day," she smiled between us before heading out of the kitchen.

Once aunt V was gone I looked to her guiltily, "Santana I'm still sorry about-"

"I told you I'd tell you, just trust that I will and please don't ask again," she mumbled.

"Alright," I nodded, keeping my eyes on her.

We sat in silence for a moment before she rolled her eyes, "Finish your oatmeal so I can get the keys from Matt."

"Are you sure you wouldn't reconsider going to the dance properly with me?" I wondered as I did as she told me.

She shook her head, "You're going to go to the dance, probably with some boy you don't care about, take pictures, and dance until they make us leave. I'll be in the background like I'm supposed to be."

"But you shouldn't be," I argued laying my spoon in the now empty bowl, "You're my friend, and taking pictures with some boy I won't even think about in two weeks wouldn't mean more than taking them with you."

She looked to me curiously before shrugging, "We'll find a photo booth at the mall."

"That's not what I mean," I glared at her before she headed off leaving her bowl and mug for me to wash.

}{

Matt's instructions got us to the mall alright. When we got there, Santana mostly followed me through the stores. At first, she was fine with watching me try on dresses and shoes and giving her opinions on things. After seven stores, she was less fine. She was groaning and whining the whole time. She'd brought a few into the dressing room for me and hung them up before sitting and wearily waiting for me.

"Come on Rachel," she demanded, "How long does it take you to try on a dress?"

"Don't rush me," I tossed back.

"Then don't take forever," she challenged, "We've been here all day."

"It isn't even noon yet," I mumbled as I opened the door.

"No," she said immediately as she saw the pink ruffles that brushed just over my knees.

"What's wrong with it?" I demanded, bringing my arms up to cover my chest as I grew self-conscious.

She reached down to feel the pink tulle that made the skirt, "It's not pretty enough."

"It's not?" I wondered, reaching down to brush my fingers over the fabric as well as I looked to the large mirror beside us.

"I mean, it shows off plenty of skin," she smirked as she ran her fingertip over my shoulder.

I shuddered before crossing my arms over my chest again.

She urged them down and chuckled, "But it looks cheap. You want this to be a night can remember right?"

I nodded hesitantly before looking back to her.

"Then get a dress you'll remember," she went back to the pile of dresses I'd approved of. She brought a pink gown out and held it before me, "It's nice but," I was blushing when she shrugged, "You couldn't dance in it." I watched her walk to the pile of dresses I'd long ago rejected. She flipped through a moment before settling on one she approved of. She swung it before me and beamed proudly at me, and I couldn't help but focus more on that than myself for a moment. She slipped the hanger over my neck and that's when I started to look at the dress. It was a little white thing with a deep neck line and tight bodice, reminiscent of a former sex icon. I looked at her incredulously as she urged me back into the dressing room.

"Santana, I couldn't wear something like this, it's far too-" I had to think of a word, "Too scandalous."

"Perfect," she nodded approvingly before pulling the door shut.

Despite my words, I found myself changing into the dress. I hung up the other one neatly but took my time to admire myself in the mirror. I wasn't used to showing off curves the way that this dress did. I caught myself trailing my fingertips over the barely exposed skin of my chest. I had to admire the contrast of the light color against my olive skin. I was mesmerized by the image looking back at me. I was so lost that I jumped at the sound of Santana clearing her throat.

"How often am I really wrong?" She questioned as she came into the room, pulling the door closed behind her, and actually locking it.

"It's just so…" I ran my palms down my sides before turning to face the mirror from the side, "Beautiful."

"And?" She wondered.

"I'm not," I hadn't meant to say it, and when I saw the disapproval in her eyes I went on, "I mean, not traditionally. Marilyn Monroe was a sex icon because she was what everyone wanted to see. I'm not like that."

She turned me around so quickly I couldn't really argue. She gripped my hips as she looked me in the eyes and ground out, "Fuck being traditionally beautiful. People weren't paying out the ass for tickets to your show because they didn't want to see you. You're Rachel fucking Berry, and you look amazing in this dress, but you can't wear a dress like this unless you can look everybody else in the eye in it and introduce yourself like that."

"I suppose," I let my eyes drift back to the mirror.

"Say it," she urged.

"I'm Rachel Berry and-"

"Rachel fucking Berry," she corrected.

"I'm Rachel," I blushed as I looked up to her stern eyes, "Fucking Berry, and I look amazing in this dress."

She smiled and let go of my hips, "You really do."

My cheeks burned fiercely, "Thank you."

"Now, let's find you shoes," she turned away quickly, but not quickly enough that I couldn't see the color that came to her own cheeks.

In order to make the dress my own, Santana found me a black belt, clutch, and heels. She seemed glad to be done with all of the shopping, but something else seemed to be on her mind. She showed a different anxiety than she had the day before. She seemed more like she was waiting to be caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be. I wanted to ask about it, but I assumed it would be for the best if I didn't. Instead, I let her take me to the food court, and question every restaurant until she found one that seemed suitable for me. We ate tofu and chicken wraps, in somewhat silent comfort. I was enjoying it when the bubbly blonde that continued showing up chose that moment to make an appearance.

She slid into the booth next to Santana dropping her own bag of food on the table. She greeted me distractedly and hugged Santana who seemed surprised, if not a bit pleased, with the gesture. Brittany explained that she'd been shopping with her friends when they lost her. Santana seemed amused by that, I only found myself upset with the girl's presence; she was nice and very easy-going but whenever she was around I felt the same burning I felt when I saw Santana flirting with boys lately.

"What kind of dress are you wearing? Mines going to be something bright that I can dance in so maybe it will be short so I can dance. I'm pretty Lord Tubbington won't like anything like that though so I'll have to hide it; he can get very naggy."

"I'm just wearing Jeans," Santana shrugged.

"What?" The blonde looked to me for some sort of confirmation.

"I keep begging her to get a dress but she refuses," I sighed.

The blonde gaped, "You have to wear a dress and do your hair and make up to look extra pretty, otherwise you might as well just take facebook pictures in your bathroom."

"I have to work and I can't do my job in a dress."

The dancer lit up as if she'd had a revelation, "You could wear a suit like the boys."

"That's not happening," she made a face but still laughed.

"Well if you're going to be my date…" I teased.

"You two are going together?" The blonde asked looking between us, excitement where I expected to see disappointment.

"Only if nobody asks," she shrugged. I wouldn't have been able to explain the dejection I felt when she said that.

"But you two would be so cute! And you could wear matching dresses or your suit could match her dress and-"

"So you're boyfriend's taking you to homecoming? I hope she's a gentleman," Quinn sneered as she stopped at our table.

"Looks like he'll give you a good time," Mercedes added.

"Guys," Brittany tried to calm them all.

"Like the good time I showed Puck or the good time I can show Finn? Oh, I forgot, I'm not the one he wants to show him a good time, right Rach?"

I could only stare wide-eyed between them.

The both looked ready to leap over the table when Brittany stood between us, "Let's just go. We can go look for our dresses."

"Alright Britt, I wouldn't want to break the hobbit and her guard-dog before we even go to see what garbage they wear to the dance," Mercedes tossed once more over her shoulder.

Santana would have gladly gone after her if I hadn't stood up in time to stop her, my hands on her waist as she glared over my shoulder, tense and ready to fight. I felt Mercedes and Quinn's glares bearing into me but didn't bother to look back. Aside from not feeling their eyes on us anymore, I could tell they were gone when Santana relaxed slightly.

"I think we've gotten everything we can do done for the day," I supplied, drawing her attention back down to me. "Maybe it would be best if we headed home."

Santana gladly carried my bags to the truck and loaded them up. We got into the truck and she took us home. Daddy and Aunt V wanted to gush over the dress while Uncle James and Dad worried that it was too revealing. Santana just kept to the background, giving me a knowing smirk that made me blush as I went to Aunt V and Daddy so they could discuss how I'd wear my hair. The rest of that weekend was relatively calmer.

That Monday Noah proudly dropped two red, black, and white tickets into Santana's hand. She asked him how much they cost and he only laughed before walking away. She gave them to me before we proceeded with our day as we normally would. We sat in on a couple of Mr. Schuester's Spanish classes. He seemed pleased to have her there, even mentioning how much he wished more of his students were like her. She took a couple of word searches with her when we went to the bleachers.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"Me llamo Lopez," she pointed out, not lifting her eyes from the paper on her lap.

"I know but that doesn't mean you speak Spanish. For all I know about you you could be some sort of reformed Colombian assassin with a questionable past."

"Numero uno," she mumbled, "I'm Puerto Rican. Numero dos," she shrugged, "My past isn't that questionable. Y numero tres," she finally looked up to me, a challenging smirk on her lips, "Can you really be a reformed assassin?"

My jaw dropped and I gaped at her.

"If I were Colombian, wouldn't I still speak Spanish?" She wondered.

"You aren't," I didn't even fight the urge to ask, "Are you?"

"Say it with me now," She encouraged, her words slowing as she teased, "Puer-to Ri-can."

"I meant an assassin," I glared at her.

"Aw, Rach," she started, and it almost made me feel guilty, "If I were do you really think I'd tell you?" Almost.

I gaped at her once more.

She was laughing too hard to actually continue working on her word search.

Schuester didn't really seem to have a lesson planned for this week; instead, apparently, the club would be performing at the dance. People were planning their performances and things. Sam had gotten Santana's attention and pulled her to the side. She kept her eyes flickering between me Quinn, Mercedes, and Finn, but other than that she did her best to focus on Sam. He seemed to be talking about a song, smiling brightly at her as he strummed an imaginary guitar. She nodded and continued talking with him. I watched curiously as she looked to be agreeing to perform a song with him. At some point, their conversation seemed to take an awkward turn. Sam slipped his hands into his pockets and his gestures became more like shrugs. Santana became more curious as well, looking him over inquisitively. He said something and she looked almost worried. When he looked up and saw her his face grew worried. She muttered out a nervous response and gestured to me anxiously. Sam looked up and caught me looking, blushing furiously before looking back down. He shrugged and muttered something to Santana before giving her an almost dismal smile and walking out of the room all together.

"What happened?" I asked as she came back to sit by me.

"He asked me to go to homecoming with him," she shrugged guiltily.

I was baffled as to why she'd seem guilty about that, "And?"

"He's just," she sighed, "He's really sweet and he seems like his looking for more than just a hook up."

"And you aren't."

"I don't do relationships, much less long distance," she shook her head.

"Why did he look at me?" I wondered curiously.

I saw something that might have been rarer than a genuine smile, Santana turned a furious shade of crimson, "I might have told Sam he should ask you instead."

I couldn't stop myself from hitting her shoulder, "Santana!" Everyone looked to us for a moment before they went back to their discussions. "Why would you tell him that?"

"Because you're like a nice person too, and I felt bad for turning him down. Besides, you don't want to go to the dance with me, that's depressing."

"I didn't mind," I sighed, "I don't need a date Santana. I really am just happy to go with you, and maybe you should invite Sam to join us as friends, if it will make your feel better."

"That might be a good idea since I think he still wants to do the song," she nodded.

I nodded in approval.

"Are you doing a song with anyone?" She wondered.

"I'm still thinking it over," I sighed.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she assured before pointing me towards Matt to see him nodding towards the door.

We followed Matt to the truck, saying goodbye to everyone as we continued discussing our song choices.

}{

It seemed as if the week of Homecoming everyone had better things to do than harass me and Santana. Quinn and Mercedes were running for homecoming court and that took a lot of their time as well as extra practices for the cheerios half-time performance. The football team was pretty busy too. I only saw Matt and the other boys during glee practices and classes. Matt was usually too tired to hang out after school. Sam came over a couple of times to practice with Santana and the adults were pretty interested. Aunt V, Daddy, and Uncle James were excited to hear the song. Santana was much less shy about sitting in the living room and singing the more upbeat _That's it, I quit, I'm moving on_. Sam even got over his nerves of being with Santana for it, at least while they were performing.

"That was wonderful!" Daddy cheered as the pair finished.

"Thank you Mr. Berry," Sam smiled.

Aunt V nudged me slightly and whispered conspiratorially, "They make a cute couple, don't they?"

"I wouldn't tell Santana that," I laughed slightly.

"You two are wonderful," she looked back to them, "Have you two considered matching?"

"I'm not really getting dressed up," Santana shrugged.

"What? How can you not get dressed up for this?" The woman demanded.

Santana gave the same shrug she'd adopted for every time someone asked about her outfit, "I'm supposed to be watching Rachel. If she gets in trouble I have to be able to take care of her."

"That's very professional of you but couldn't you take one night off?" The woman wondered.

"Any other night, but a night of teenagers grinding on each other on a dance-floor, spiking drinks, and competing for a cheap plastic crown? I sort of need to be in running shoes."

The woman's features were crestfallen, "And you helped Rachel pick out such a pretty dress. You four could have matched."

"White t-shirt," Santana offered with a shrug.

"I'll figure something out for you," the woman promised, or maybe threatened before heading to the door, "It was nice seeing you Sam, I'm sorry Matt's not up to hang out but you know how it is. I'm shocked you're even up to this."

He smiled politely, "I'll be alright with the girls ma'am."

"Boys," Aunt V called Daddy and Uncle James out of the room, "Leave the kids alone."

They followed although they kept their eyes on Sam as they did.

"You two really will be wonderful," I assured them.

"Thanks," Sam repeated. He looked to Santana curiously, "You never did explain what your job is that you follow her all day and can't get dressed up."

"Bodyguard," she shrugged, "She needs a babysitter otherwise she gets herself in serious situations, or have you not noticed that."

I'd gotten too used to Santana's jabs when it came to our professional relationship and only rolled my eyes.

"I've noticed," he agreed.

"Sam," I decided to change the subject, "Are you sure you're alright with going to the dance with us?"

"Of course," he nodded, "Better with friends than by myself." He gave a small smile although I had to wonder if he really believed that.

"I suppose I could maybe buy a decent outfit," Santana rolled her eyes, "I could settle for a skirt or something."

"That's better than jeans," I pointed out.

"But I'm not matching," she declared.

"But the pictures," I couldn't stop myself from whining.

"Will look fine," I assured.

"I guess I should be going," Sam stood up, gripping his guitar.

"Get home safely Sam," I urged, standing up to hug him.

Santana didn't stand up as much as look up to him nervously and nod, "Yeah, see you later."

"Have a good night," he said politely before heading out.

"I don't think I've ever seen you shy," I mumbled amusedly as I walked past her.

"Not shy," she scowled. "I just feel bad."

"Didn't know you were capable," I teased.

"I'm not entirely a bitch," she mumbled as she followed me to the room.

"Not entirely," I agreed.

"Har har," she sneered.

"Will you really were something nice?" I turned to look at her hopefully when we were in the room.

"I'm not wearing a goddamn gown," she clarified, "But yes, I'll try to find something better than jeans."

"I can't wait to help you find something," I clapped.

"Don't make me regret this."

}{

Santana regretted letting me help her, especially the night of the dance. She was in her black a-line skirt and white t-shirt, watching me fuss with her hair. I'd already blow dried mine and now I wanted to get hers falling over her shoulder perfectly. She fidgeted and scowled at everything I did. Her outfit was simple enough, the black coat and checkered scarf resting on her lap. She was mostly just waiting on me to finish. Finally, I got it perfect, it had plenty of body but it was still controlled while showing off her gorgeous waves. Aunt V had done both our makeup, going the same natural route with Santana as Cosette had. My make up was a bit darker, a muted red on my lips and a subtle blush adding color. My natural curls fell over my shoulders playfully.

"You two look amazing," Aunt V gushed.

"Thank you Aunt V, I really couldn't have done so well without either you or Santana assisting me," I admired myself in the mirror before looking back to Santana.

"Thanks," she shrugged, not bothering to look in the mirror; instead she looked at me reproachfully.

I rolled my eyes and gave a small smile, "I mean I look amazing in this dress."

"Sam's going to be here soon, right?" The older woman asked curiously.

"Mhum," I hummed as I fingered a couple of curls that fell over my shoulder.

She nodded before touching Santana's shoulder lightly, "I'm going to steal your other date away for a moment then."

I kind of wanted to know what happened when she led Santana up the stairs. I waited for her downstairs, with Matt. It felt like forever but when I checked my phone it was really only about ten minutes. By the time Sam was at the door, looking handsome in his suit and bolo tie. Matt let him in just in time to see Santana coming down the stairs, her jacket on and her scarf wrapped around her neck. A small smile I'd never seen on her face before glowing comfortably. As soon as she saw us it became something entirely different, but I could still spot a glimpse of that smile.

"Hey Sam," she greeted the boy, "Give me a minute."

"Alright," he nodded.

She grabbed my hand gently and drew me to the hall as she pulled a package I hadn't noticed from behind her back. I looked at it curiously, my eyes widening as I saw the deep red corsage inside. "I figured you'd need some sort of color." She slipped it onto my wrist gently.

"Santana, it's gorgeous," I brought the flower up to take in the scent and brush my fingertips over it gently.

"I thought you'd like something sappy like that," she teased, but I still saw her smiling.

"Alright girls," Aunt V called, "Don't keep this poor boy waiting all night."

"Come on," I waved her on, leading her out to the living room again.

Aunt V pulled me into a tight hug, although she was careful of my hair, "Have a good night Sweetheart, have fun, and don't get into too much trouble."

She let go of me to give Santana a hug as well. She mumbled her own message to the girl as well before pulling back and holding her chin gently. They shared a glance that I couldn't quite understand before she let her go.

"Wait! Hold on! Don't leave yet!" Daddy called as he, Dad, and Uncles James came into the living room, phones in hand.

"Where's Matt's date?" Dad wondered.

"I'm meeting her there," He explained.

Aunt V was in the middle of gushing over the boys when the men came in, cameras flashing.

"Viv, let us get some of the kids," Uncle James teased.

She rolled her eyes but finished straightening everyone's collars and fixing hair, "There you go."

We got plenty of individual shots and huddled photos. Eventually they let us go and we drove to the school. Sam and Matt were perfect gentlemen all the way inside. Matt went off to find his date and promised to check on us. We danced for a while and had a good time, getting our pictures out of the way. I took a couple with Santana, blushing and smiling at the camera as she held her arms around my waist playfully. We also took a couple with Sam. We watched the club members take turns going up to sing. Noah, Matt, and Artie managed to do a decent cover of _Friday_, Mercedes did a tasteful although somewhat off cover of _Dancing Queen_, and Brittany and Quinn did Me Against the Music. Artie did an interesting solo, _Isn't She Lovely_, while Santana explained to me that he and Brittany had broken up before we'd gotten there. Santana urged me up onto the stage when it was my turn. She'd been around for the practices with the band. Everyone seemed to like my cover of _Go Your Own Way._ Finally, I got to see her perform. It was almost more exciting than actually performing myself. She and Sam were amazing. I waited by the edge of the stage for them, enjoying the whole song before throwing myself at her in a hug.

"I'm guessing you're having a good night," she pointed out.

"Absolutely," I beamed, pulling away slightly, "Thank you so much for bringing me."

"It's never a problem Rach," she assured.

"Hey, Rachel, do you want to dance?" Sam asked, letting himself be happy rather than dwelling on his past displeasure.

"Of course," I nodded and took his hand before looking to Santana.

She smiled and waved me on.

"So, are you two dating?" Sam asked frankly.

I gaped at him slightly as we danced to the slow song Mercedes was singing, "No. What would give you that impression?"

"Sorry," he blushed and shrugged, "I mean, I know she's your bodyguard, but whenever she'd hit on me or Puck you stared at her like you wanted to drag her out of the room."

"I do not," I said defensively, although I could feel myself flushing.

"And that could explain why she'd turn me down," he supplied.

"She's not exactly the relationship type," I explained to him, "And I guess she thought that's what you were looking for."

He nodded understandingly.

We continued dancing a little while longer. It was different with Sam than it was with Cosette and Santana. Understandably, the environments were different. His hands fell carefully on my waist while mine went loosely around his neck. There was space for at least another person between us. I found myself looking for Santana in the crowd, every so often, catching a glimpse of her talking to someone before she caught me watching and smiled. I actually began thinking about what Sam had said. The way he described it, the disdain I'd been feeling for people I'd otherwise got along with sounded somewhat like envy.

"Shouldn't you be keeping a closer eye on your boyfriend?" A smug voice came from behind us.

"Mercedes, can't you just chill for one night?" Sam asked, moving between us slightly.

"No," she shrugged, "I don't think I can. I mean, it's bad enough she's got you on her arm, but she can't keep her dude on a short enough leash that she won't fuck with everyone else's man."

"Stop calling Santana that," I almost shouted, growing fed up with their harassment. "It's not my fault or hers that Puck isn't interested in you."

"Oh hell no," she moved forward but Sam was between us.

"M, calm down," Quinn called, obviously amused, "She's not worth it. Can't you see it? She's got eyes for anyone who'll pay attention to her, because the one person she wants whores around with everyone else."

"What are you-"

She showed that overly sweet smile, "Oh sweetie, trust me, I didn't see it at first either but I caught on quickly enough. It just burns you up when she looks at Brittany doesn't it?"

"What?" I looked around anxiously, hoping to see the girl.

"How about when she's with Puck?" The blonde went on. "Because trust me, Puck showed her a good time."

"Quinn," Sam warned.

"How about you Sam? I know I saw her on your lap," Quinn challenged. "Face it," the blonde's angry gaze dropped back to me, "She's a whore, just not for you."

"Don't call her-"

"Or what? You'll tell on me? Go ahead, go tell your little slut that I was mean to you," she urged pointing me towards Santana. I couldn't fight the gasp that escaped my lips when I saw her; Finn leaned over her while she gripped his shirt. That feeling of envy Sam had explained, it reared up, fueled by a rage I didn't recognize.

"Rachel," Sam called as I left the small circle that had gained plenty of attention.

"Santana," I called, drawing her attention from the boy.

He stumbled back from her slightly as she turned around, her eyebrows knit together in frustration, "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?" I demanded, a bit surprised by the spite in my voice.

"I was talking to Finn but he-"

I shook my head furiously, "Stop Santana. Just stop. You were doing what you're always doing. You were just trying to hook up when you're supposed to be with me."

"I was watching while you were dancing with Sam," she tried to explain, but her annoyance was replaced by confusion.

"Santana," Finn whined behind her, drawing out her name unnecessarily.

"No Santana," I glowered, watching as the boy came up to her and grabbed her hand, "You were just being a-a-a whore!" The word just came to my mind. I regretted it as soon as I said it. Her face only dropped for a second before her annoyance came back. She pulled her hand back from Finn and I was certain she was going to hit me as she came forward. Instead she shoved me roughly to the side, just for me to watch as, almost in slow motion, four different colors of slushy.

The dance stopped then, everyone fell silent, even Brittany and Tina onstage. Before anything else could start Sam was leading us both outside. He tried to help Santana as she pulled her coat and sweater off and tried to wipe away the slushy that stained her shirt. He even offered her his coat but she wouldn't take it. She just sat in the back of the truck shivering as the shirt that had started off white turned into a nasty brown color. I leaned against the truck with Sam's offered jacket over my shoulders, trying to make myself look up and apologize to Santana but I couldn't. I couldn't get myself to look higher than the melding colors on her shirt. It only took a few minutes but Matt ran out quickly, looking flustered as he saw us. He apologized for not checking in and for the night being ruined. I didn't even bother to correct him.

Sam refused to be dropped off first. He wanted to make sure Santana was alright. She came down, dressed in a tank top and her exercise shorts and promised she was fine. She had to tell both boys that she'd gone through worse before just to get Sam to go home, on the condition that she text if she needed anything, and Matt to go to bed. She ignored me. I followed her into the room, hoping I'd get the chance to apologize, but as I saw her taking a blanket and pillow back out to the living room I panicked.

"Santana," I started, my voice week compared to the anger that had been there before.

She didn't stop walking.

"I'm so sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it. I swear I was just angry and Quinn had been-"

She turned on her heel, disdain covering something that looked oddly like pain, "Stop, Rachel."

"But-"

"I said stop," her voice was stern; "I don't need you apologizing to me. I fucked up."

"No you didn't, you just wanted to have fun at the dance like eve-"

"No I fucked up when I let this," she waved between us, "Get personal; when I thought we were friends. We aren't. I work for you. You pay me to do a job, and I should have done a better one tonight. So, unless you're going to fire me, then I don't think you have anything more to say to me tonight." She was going to turn back when a cruel smirk, one that sent a chill down my spine and almost made me want to cry tugged at her lips, "Unless you want to call me a whore again, because if anybody should be honest with me, it's my boss, right?"

I could only stare at her with my eyes beginning to water. She didn't seem to care as she walked to the couch. She dropped her pillow and blanket on it before turning off the lights. I stood there for a few moments, I don't even know why, maybe hoping she'd find some reason to forgive me, or I'd think up one. It didn't happen though, instead, I slumped off to the cold bed in the room I was supposed to be sharing.


	11. It Messes Up The Dynamic

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review. **

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

I didn't sleep much that night. I hadn't realized I'd gotten so used to Santana's presence. Her soft even breaths weren't there to lull me to sleep. Instead of a body, her side of the bed was weighed down by its emptiness and my guilt. The little sleep I did get, fitful with dreams of the cold smack of slushies in a myriad of colors, was cut short by the brush of the door over carpet. I didn't move or speak as the absent blanket and pillow were returned but the body that belonged with them wasn't there, instead it was slouched on the corner of the bed. The room seemed to have, somehow, grown quieter as I watched the barely visible rise and fall of Santana's shoulders.

"Go back to sleep," she urged, her voice barely above a whisper.

"San," I called, finally sitting up.

"Really Rachel, I'm not in the mood," she shook her head.

"Santana, please just let me apologize," I pleaded.

"Apologize for what Rachel? Telling me the truth? You don't need to."

"But-"

"There's no buts, you told me the truth so I did the same," she didn't sound angry, just blunt. "I'm not your friend, I just work for you."

I shook my head and moved to put my hand on her shoulder; she dipped out of the touch, "You are my friend."

"It was her turn to shake her head with a humorless laugh, "Tell me you'd say the same thing if I hadn't walked into that interview, if I was just some street-rat you ran across."

"We could," I mumbled.

"But we wouldn't. You were right Rachel, you don't know anything about my past but if you did whore wouldn't be anywhere near the harshest thing you'd call me."

I watched her nervously, "Santana we're friends, I just don't want you to be mad at me."

She finally looked up to me as if gauging my sincerity "I'm not mad, we aren't supposed to be friends. I can't do my job if I'm busy playing with you."

"We can be friends without-"

"I can't protect you if I want to quit every time I get my feelings hurt," she clarified, looking vulnerable as she admitted it. "And it's going to happen if I keep letting my guard down."

I couldn't think of a response to that.

"We just can't be friends Rachel," she sighed, her shoulders slumping completely.

She didn't have anything else to say and neither did I. I laid back down, not entirely sure what else to do. I could only watch her as she became a silent statue. She did eventually move, when everyone else had woken. I just stayed in bed, pretending to sleep when anyone came in. I kept it up until dinner when I had to come out. Santana, Matt and I shared anxious glances but she led us through the trail of lies. According to us, we got home at midnight, we danced for hours, we cheered when Quinn, Finn, Mercedes, and Noah won homecoming court, and we had fun. Dad and Daddy were excited for the pictures. Aunt V was asking Santana about her performance. We avoided any awkward questions about the end of the night. That night Santana was back in our room although we didn't speak much; it was easier to sleep with her there.

Monday we stayed in the room, me watching movies while she texted. I kept expecting questions and complaints but they never came. The few time she looked to the screen it didn't last very long before was typing away at her phone again. I found myself paying more attention to her than the movies.

Tuesday we, rather, I decided to go back to the school. We mostly sat in on some of Mr. Schuester's classes. Santana and I sat in the back of the class where she said she could easily watch me. She didn't really say much after that, preferring to work on the Spanish Assignments. When I asked she followed me to the bleachers where we sat for another couple of periods. I ended up doing some Spanish 1 assignments, with minimal help from her. I was almost done when I heard heavy footsteps on the bleachers. Santana's back straightened defensively and I turned in time to see Noah forcing Finn up the steps, the latter's arm held tightly behind his back.

"Fuck dude, let me go," Finn groaned as he and Noah stopped before us.

Santana looked both of them over skeptically.

"Say it," Noah ground out, pressing the boys arm again.

"Okay, okay," he agreed, trying to twist out of Noah's grasp, "I'm sorry for trying to get you to sleep with me. I had too much punch after Puck spiked it"

An incredible guilt welled up in me at that. Santana, in no way, deserved what I'd said to her, and while I may not have been the one to throw the slushies afterwards, I might as well have been.

At that Noah let go of his arm.

"I shouldn't have," the boy glared at his friend before looking apologetically to Santana.

"Probably not the one you should be apologizing to," she mumbled under her breath. She shrugged to him, "We're good."

"Still-" he cocked his head. It got awkwardly silent before he looked to Noah, "I'll see you in glee."

The mohawked boy nodded to his friend before crashing onto the seat between us. He slipped his arm over Santana's shoulder and pulled her close, "I'm like ridiculously sorry for telling him. I didn't think he'd do that even if he was drunk. It's not like I told him you were easy or anything he's just my bro-"

"Whatever," she shook her head, "I get it, I mean, who wouldn't want to brag after tapping this?" She smirked playfully at the boy, and I felt a burning I was starting to recognize after having it pointed out to me.

His anxiety melted into a grin, "As long as you're cool. I'd have gladly gotten everyone else up here but wrangling Mercedes, Dave, and Azimio would have been a bitch, and even then they probably wouldn't be as easy to persuade to apologize."

"I can handle them," she waved him off, "Besides; knocking Quinn around would be more than enough apology for me."

He laughed, "Yeah, well, don't get yourself on anyone else's bad side."

"Me? On someone's bad side? Never," she joked, smiling up at the boy.

"What about you babe?" he asked me, slipping his arm over my shoulder now, "I didn't see much of you at homecoming."

"I had a decent night, dancing and what not," I shrugged, not exactly enjoying his company.

"That's good. You haven't been making any enemies have you?" He teased.

"Besides Quinn and her horde? No," I shook my head.

"You two have terrible judgment," he pointed out.

"But I can handle it," Santana explained, "She can't."

"Four slushies say otherwise," Noah pointed out.

"Oh yeah? And how many have you taken to the face?" She wondered.

"Let's not get into that," he dodged, laughing as he did so.

I'd have appreciated if he'd left sooner but he finished out the day with us. Mostly he joked around with Santana while I watched. Every once in a while Noah would try to get me in on the joke or game but I would just nod or smile politely. I noticed Santana glancing at me curiously every time she'd laugh too loud or get too caught up in a joke. I wanted to know why but I didn't interrupt them. Noah seemed saddened to find out we'd be leaving Friday although he was glad to walk us into glee club. Mr. Schuester gave us the congratulations for homecoming that everyone had gotten the day before. Quinn and Mercedes seemed surprised to see us but they kept that to themselves. When I looked up to Santana, after Brittany hugged her, she seemed to have noticed the other two girls as well. She kept her eyes on them, well into the meeting.

"So, did you finally get your boyfriend off of everyone else's lap or will she just take a slushie for anyone?" Quinn asked me as we headed for the door.

"Quinn I'm asking that you leave us be our last few days here," I stepped back from her, bumping into Santana.

"She's asking. I'm telling," Santana ground out and I felt her hands on my shoulders.

"Aw, now if that isn't a pretty picture," Mercedes joined in, "It's just missing a little color isn't it?"

"Quinn, just leave them alone," Sam came to our side.

"Aw Sammie, you haven't learned your lesson? Or are you still trying to mack on with the hobbit's boyfriend?" Mercedes sneered.

The boy blushed furiously but didn't stop.

Puck stood in front of us, "This is getting on my nerves. Quinn, chill, they'll be out of your hair soon enough. Mercedes, I wasn't your man to begin with so I don't know what your deal is."

"No," Quinn glared at the boy, "I won't chill." She got a dark look in her eyes before storming out.

"Hell no, this is about more than just you and Finnept," the angry girl challenged, following after Quinn.

"You guys probably shouldn't come to school tomorrow," Sam pointed out.

"I wouldn't," Noah agreed.

I was going to agree when I heard Santana's breathing behind me, "We'll be here."

Matt found out, probably from Sam and Noah, about the upset with Quinn and Mercedes. He gave the same warning to Santana and practically begged me not to go. I mentioned to Santana that we shouldn't go, that maybe she couldn't handle it. She told me she wouldn't; if I genuinely didn't want to go, then there was nothing she could do and we wouldn't. But I did want to go. I wanted to say goodbye to the friends we'd made. Noah, while haughty and crass, was almost charming in his own way. Brittany was genuinely nice, although not the sharpest tool in the shed. Sam was an all around nice guy and any negative feelings I had towards him, well, they may have had more to do with his interactions with Santana.

"I want to go," I finally concluded.

"Then we'll go," she stated, lying back on the bed.

"What about Quinn and Mercedes?" I wondered, watching her as she curled up under her blanket, her phone already before her face.

"I told you I'd protect you, Rachel, just let me do my job and you can say goodbye to everyone," she mumbled.

"Alright," I nodded.

}{

Santana was up before me that Wednesday, coffee made for the three of us. She seemed especially observant, not really focusing on me, but everyone else around us. We sat in on some of Mr. Schuester's classes and followed the boys to a couple. Noah was amazed he hadn't been getting Santana to help with his math homework and Sam was impressed with how easily she took up the book they were reading in AP English, even I'd gotten bored with it. Even between all of that, I could tell she knew what was happening around us. This was probably the first time I'd ever her scene her actually act like a bodyguard, at least how I thought one would act.

"Colombiana!" A woman barked as we started following Sam from his class on our way to glee.

Santana turned to the voice, mumbling about everyone thinking she was Colombian when she saw the tracksuit clad blonde woman.

I was giggling slightly as she did.

"Word on the street is you're skipping town," the woman stopped about a foot away from us, her hands on her hips, "And I've yet to see you at a practice."

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Didn't seem to be my thing."

"Then why haven't I seen my uniform?" The woman cocked her head, annoyance splayed across her features.

Santana scoffed, "Ask your girls, they didn't seem to care too much about the uniform when they locked it in the bathroom."

The woman looked over Santana curiously before nodding. She came forward, standing in front of Santana so she had to look up at her, "I like you. Not one of my girls would have the nerve to tell me something like that. I must say, using talents like yours for "the greater good,"" and she actually used finger quotes, "might just be a waste."

"Talents?" I wondered. The woman had never seen Santana do much more than run.

She looked to me next, "Trust me, if you look in her eyes she's made for a lot more than just babysitting you, but I must admit, you're getting your money's worth with her."

When I looked to Santana for an explanation all I saw was irritation, as if the woman said something to upset her, "I'm _made_ to watch after her, now if you don't mind we have somewhere to be." Despite the venom in her voice she was gentle as she urged me towards the choir room. "Don't expect your uniform back," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Nobody else would do it justice," Sue called back.

I looked back over my shoulder to see the woman smirking after us. Santana led me into the choir room. Apparently Matt had told everyone that it would be our last day at school. Brittney, to her friends disdain, spent the whole meeting sitting with Santana and I. Santana kept her eyes on the other girls until the very end of the meeting. They left well before us, as soon as Mr. Schuester dismissed us. Everyone else was saying their goodbyes and making sure they got our numbers. It was nice, and I enjoyed it so much, and as I looked her over as she let Noah sling an arm over her shoulder and Sam one around her waist I could tell she did too. Brittany and Tina wanted my number and Finn requested it for Kurt so he could give it to him when he got home.

"Do you guys want the keys so you can head home? I can catch a ride with Puck," Matt offered.

"No, I wouldn't mind watching you practice," I offered smiling up to my cousin before looking to Santana, "Would you."

"I'm cool with it," she nodded, still smiling slightly.

"Alright, we'll see you on the field," he handed Santana the keys anyway before following the other boys out and to the locker room.

"So," Santana started, sounding more relaxed speaking to me than she had since Saturday night, "Think you're going to miss it all?"

I looked to her curiously; she was eyeing the door everyone had just left through wearily, "A bit. I mean, aren't you? Aside from the slushies and the cheerios it was nice."

She scoffed, "It was nice that we didn't have to deal with it every day if we didn't want to."

I nodded understandingly, "I suppose so." I shoved her playfully and teased, "But I know you're going to miss the boys and Brittany."

She shrugged, "Come on, let's get to the bleachers."

I nodded and followed her out of the room, bumping into her back when she stopped just outside. I was going to ask what happened when I followed her line of sight to see Quinn and Mercedes with large cups in hand. There was a moment I wasn't sure what to do so I looked up to Santana. Her eyes flickered between the girls as she assessed the situation and I saw her look to the opposite direction. She looked back to them and I saw her fists clench but she shook her head and pushed me in front of her. I was going to ask what we were doing as we practically power-walked to the next hallway. She pushed me forward and reached for the knob of the first door we passed. It didn't give much and I gaped at her as she pulled out the two knives I hadn't seen in quite a while. Her hands worked quickly at the lock until it gave and she urged me into the dark room before following me and pulling the door shut tightly behind us.

Her chest rose and fell quickly with agitation. There really wasn't enough space for me to move away from her so I felt each irritated breath she took for what felt like an eternity. Finally, a small blue glow rose between us and I saw her phone. She held it between us and I saw her looking around the room curiously, taking in the cleaning supplies that surrounded us. Her brows were knit together in annoyance but they relaxed as she looked down to me.

"Slushies aren't really that bad," I pointed out, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You haven't taken four to the face," she reminds.

I nodded understandingly.

"Besides, I don't think your dad would be too happy with bailing me out of jail for smashing someone's face," she scowled, trying to turn to the door without knocking anything from the shelves. A towel fell onto her head and I tugged it off gently.

"Probably not," I agreed.

She moved back to the door, pressing her ear to it carefully.

I just watched, trying not to move too much and make anything else fall. She seemed focused on what was on the other side of the door. Once again, she became a statue until she heard what she wanted to. She waved me forward and turned back, pulling me close, almost like she did at the club. "When I open the door, I'll go first, wait a minute, and if nothing happens we'll go to the bleachers. If something does happen, wait for my signal stay low, and go to the bleachers on your own, I'll catch up to you."

I nodded, although I grew nervous at that.

She pressed back to the door listening for a bit longer before she slipped her phone back into her pocket and I heard the twist of the doorknob. The fluorescent lights filtered into the small room as she stepped out of the room. She looked to the hallway we'd just come from and I assumed nothing was wrong. I waited for anything to happen or the signal she was meant to give but it didn't come, at least not how I expected. Santana turned back to me almost looking relaxed enough to wave me out when the whole slushy cup hit the side of her head. She was caught off guard by it enough that the next slushy hit her directly, coating her more thoroughly. I saw as Mercedes came forward and gripped her by her jacket.

"Did you and your girlfriend really think you'd leave without a proper goodbye?" The girl asked, tossing Santana back on the ground.

Quinn peeked into the closet, that overly sweet smile still on her face. "M, looks like we've interrupted their date."

"I figured as much," the other girl nodded, watching Santana get up, obviously in pain, "I mean boyfriend's pretty upset."

"Don't touch her," Santana growled as she got up.

"Or what?" Quinn challenged, "You're going to sleep with someone else? Or do you do anything else worth worrying about?"

Santana lunged for the blonde only to be knocked to the side by Mercedes.

Quinn came into the closet and grabbed me by my arm, tugging me out to more thoroughly see Santana picking herself up.

"Shouldn't you help your boyfriend up?" She shoved me towards Santana. I almost fell as I pulled the girl up, not worrying about the liquid melting onto me.

She pulled me to her and tried to keep the harshness out of her voice as she mumbled, "Go to the bleachers." She slipped out of her jacket and handed it to me.

"But-"

"Just go," she snapped, pushing me behind her as Mercedes came back to her.

I was worried as I backed up slightly, watching the other girls approach her. Santana certainly looked a bit more focused now. Before she'd been distracted trying to keep me out of their way but her posture was different now.

"Now, Rachel," she called as she took a familiar stance.

"She thinks she's some sort of fighter," Mercedes laughed.

"It's cute, I see what the hobbit sees in her," I heard Quinn's voice as I turned the corner making my way to the bleachers.

}{

Santana didn't come to the bleachers. In fact, she didn't even meet us at the truck. I grew anxious when Matt came to me after practice Noah in Sam in tow and looking just as worried. They said Santana called and they had to go get her, but Matt was taking me home. I watched the two boys head back into the school as Matt led me to his truck. We got home and I took up residence on the couch, waiting for any sign of Santana. Matt assured me she was fine and would be home soon. When Dad and Daddy heard about her not coming home with me they had different responses.

"I hope she's alright, why didn't you tell us those girls were bothering you?" Daddy worried.

"It didn't seem like a big deal, it wasn't much more than some senseless harassment," I shrugged it off, playing with the sticky collar of her coat.

"Senseless harassment?" Dad shouted, "Rachel, you could be the one not coming in until everyone's thoroughly panicked, if she was a real bodyguard none of this would have happened."

Matt came to her defense, "Uncle Hiram, it's not that big of a deal, Quinn and Mercedes are usually fairly harmless, and Rachel's obviously alright."

Just then we all turned to see the door open, Santana standing there in a t-shirt that was obviously too big on her. She had some sunglasses over her eyes even though it was already dark outside. I could see Sam and Noah watching her carefully from a truck, making sure she got inside alright. She lifted an arm to wave them off before pulling the door closed behind her and looking around the collected group. I couldn't help it when I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my head to her chest. She stiffened slightly and when I looked up I saw a slight grimace on her face, only made harsher by the bruising forming on the apple of her cheek and jaw and the scab on her lip. I only got to take it in for a moment before I was being pulled back from her. I watched as Dad took my place, just barely eye level with her chin but still looking menacing.

"Who do you think you are putting my daughter in danger like that?" He demanded. "She could have been hurt because we trusted her safety to some punk."

"Hiram," Daddy chastised.

"No," He tossed back, "I'm right. Rachel could have been hurt because we let her play with some child expecting her to take on an adult's job."

"Mr. Berry-" Santana started.

"No, there's no argument and no defense here," he shook his head. "And take those stupid things off," he reached to snatch the glasses from Santana's face. She tried to stop him but her reaction was slower than normal.

I couldn't contain a gasp as I saw the bruising surrounding her eye and connecting to that on her cheek.

Dad didn't have much else to say when he saw that.

"If you'd let me finish, I'd have told you, I'm sorry I had to send Rachel to the boys on her own, but I had to make sure the other girls didn't follow her. My temper may have gotten out of hand but, as you can see, she's alright," her speech was slow and any focus she showed was forced.

"Where have you been since then?" He questioned the hostility still in his voice.

She looked down and I noticed the bandages on the middle and ring fingers of her left hand, "Puck and Sam insisted I go to the hospital. I ended up doing more damage to myself than the other girls."

"We aren't paying you to go around rumbl-"

"Hiram!" Daddy chose to cut him off them; he hushed Daddy before hugging Santana, "Thank you for watching out for our little girl San. I'm sorry you had to get injured in the process." He pulled back quickly when he saw her wince at the contact.

"It's my job Mr. Berry," she smiled at Daddy although it was obviously a painful gesture. The split in her lip opened again and she hurried to wipe it away.

"Matt can you help her and Rachel to the room? Hiram and I need to go upstairs to speak." Daddy's voice sounded harsher than I was used to as I grabbed Santana's jacket.

Matt helped her to the room. He offered her assistance with anything else but she politely declined. She slipped into the bed and laid down quickly. I could only watch from the doorway until she waved me over.

"I'm out of practice," she groaned, bringing her right hand up to palm her right eye, the undamaged one.

"Is that really what you're worried about?" I asked, slight panic in my voice. I sat on the bed next to her, taking in all of the injuries.

"None, of this," she gestured to herself, "Would have been as bad if I'd been practicing."

I couldn't help but laugh as I leaned down to slip my arm over her again, nuzzling her shoulder slightly, even as she stiffened, "Why couldn't you have just come to the bleachers with me."

"They'd have followed, and I couldn't keep Quinn off of you if Mercedes was on me," she explained, relaxing and bringing her hand up to rub my back gently.

"But after," I tried.

"Slushy and blood aren't a pretty mix, Sam made me go to the hospital, and then I knew I wouldn't be able to get to my sunglasses without anybody seeing so I had to stop and buy some," she explained.

I sat up to look her over again, reaching to run my thumb gently over her cheek.

"Santana," I called.

She looked up gently, forcing her eyes to focus again, "Hmm."

"Please don't say we aren't friends," I started, hoping she wouldn't interrupt. She seemed too tired to. She didn't so I went on, "Because I know you work for me, but you don't seem like the type of person to accept bodily harm for your boss."

She cracked a smile at that and I wiped the blood away, "You're right."

I gave my own smile at that.

"You'd be surprised how much bodily harm I've actually caused to former bosses," she joked.

"Santana," I groaned, still stroking her cheek.

"But you're right," she repeated.

I nodded and laid next to her again, comfortable against her, "Are you alright?"

"Black eye, broken fingers, bruised ribs, and a split lip" she mumbled, "But I feel like I could do it all over again. God, Rachel, you should try these pills."

I chuckled slightly into her shoulder, "I'd rather not. I'm sorry all this had to happen to you."

She shook her head, letting her eyes drift shut, "'S fine. I'll be good as new in no time."

I picked at the unfamiliar shirt, "Whose is this?"

"Sam's," she mumbled, obviously tired, "Mine was sticky."

She slipped off to sleep after that, still clad in the boys t-shirt and her slightly sticky jeans. I didn't want to move away from her so I ended up sleeping on her like that, wary of her injuries. I didn't fall asleep right away; instead I examined her marked features in the light of the television. The bruise looked angry and ready to darken and swell if she didn't get ice on it. Her lip had scabbed over once more. I was curious about the bruises she'd mentioned on her ribs and how she'd broken her fingers but all of that could wait, instead I scanned the calm that had overtaken her face a few more times before I fell asleep as well.

}{

I woke up before Santana that next day. It must have been because of the drugs the doctor had given her because that never happened. I took in her features again, the bruise had definitely darkened and swollen. Her lip had as well. I leaned up on my elbow, careful not to lean too far onto her or her arm. The calm over her features was still there and I couldn't help but smile at it. I don't know what drew me forward, maybe it was how relaxed she was, but I found my lips pressed gently against hers. At first she didn't respond, her breath gently tickled my lips, but soon her lips were moving against mine. I flushed slightly and enjoyed the slight moan she elicited. I was enjoying it until her eyes fluttered open and then she gasped, pulling back quickly.

"Dios mio," she groaned as she gripped her ribs. "What're you doing?" She demanded, looking flustered as she focused back on me.

"I'm sorry, I was just-" I mumbled, dropping my gaze from her.

"Rachel, we're friends, you said you wanted to be friends. Friends don't do that. You can't do that otherwise it messes up the dynamic. You're dad already hates me, if he found out that that happened he'd fire me on the spot, if he doesn't today," she was rambling. I'd never known her to ramble. I watched as she slipped off the bed, running the fingers of her good hand through her hair nervously.

"Santana," I called, but she didn't look up.

"Fuck Rachel, you can't do that. What if Leroy finds out? And your aunt and uncle? They're going to hate me and-"

"Santana," I called again, "They aren't going to hate you." Was that really what she was worried about? It was curious to me. I gripped the hem of her shirt slightly, "Are you mad at me?"

She stopped panicking for a moment, and looked down at me, any calm that was there before was now replaced by anxiety, "No I just-"

"Are you upset that I-" I licked my lip nervously, "That I kissed you?"

She dropped the hand in her hair, and shook her head, the motion was barely visible.

I bit my lip before I stood on my toes, ready to press my lips to hers again.

"Please don't," she mumbled but didn't pull back as I pressed my lips to hers again.

I felt somewhat guilty as I kissed her, because I was leading the kiss for the moment, but as she relaxed into it guilt was replaced by the opposite of the burning that plagued me each time I saw her doing the same with somebody else; a cool relaxing encompassed me as our lips meshed slightly.

"Rachel, we're," she pulled back slightly, letting more vulnerability than I was familiar with show, "We're friends."

"I know," I nodded resting my forehead on her shoulder.

"You can't do that," she mumbled.

"I thought I was in charge," I teased slightly into her shirt.

She tensed at the small joke.

"I won't tell," I promised.

I was going to say more when someone knocked at the door. Santana jumped back and did her best to look innocent, which didn't work out very well.

"Come in," I called slightly, looking the girl over nervously, worrying that I'd gone too far.

Matt stepped in the room curiously, "Hey, I came to make sure you two were alright."

"We're fine," I assured, smiling politely at my cousin.

"Alright well, Santana, Puck's here for you, he said you talked to him about going somewhere," he sounded confused.

"Alright, thanks, can you tell him I'll be right out?" She asked, trying not to look at me.

"Totally," the boy smiled before heading out.

"You're going somewhere with Noah?" I wondered.

She nodded, "I have to go before we leave."

"Can I go with you?" I wondered.

She finally looked to me uncertainly before nodding, "You kind of have to."

"Alright," I went to her reaching to touch her cheek again, "You need to put ice on that."

She pulled away from my touch, "I'm going to go sit in the truck with Puck."

I felt my face fall at that before nodding and watching her head out.

}{

I changed into a clean t-shirt and jeans, assuring Daddy we'd be home in time to pack. Dad was still in his room. In the truck Santana had taken my advice and held an icepack to her eye. She sat in the middle seat and I slid into the passenger side while Noah pulled out. He greeted me kindly and we were off. Apparently, the trip was meant to take quite a bit of time as Noah stopped to pick up coffee for all of us, Santana making sure to remind him that I was vegan. We listened to the radio and talked about inane subjects, at least Santana and I did until I realized things were starting to look familiar.

"Where are we going?" I wondered aloud.

"Lafayette," Noah supplied.

"What's out there?" I wondered, trying to remember if I'd heard of the town before.

"San said something about- Ow!" Santana elbowed him harshly.

"I have somewhere I need to be before we leave tomorrow," she mumbled, her mood growing darker as we won't.

It didn't occur to me why the scenery seemed so familiar until I saw a church in the distance and felt Santana tense beside me. Santana's jaw was clenched tightly as she watched the church grow larger in our view. Her eyes didn't flicker from it, even as she fidgeted with her ice pack. When we parked outside of it the three of us stared in silence, especially when the radio shut off with the truck. I met Noah's eyes on one of the occasions we glanced at the tense girl between us. We were both a bit surprised when she finally moved, opting to urge Noah out of his seat so she could exit rather than speaking to me. When he got back in she leaned into the window, her eyes flitting uncertainly to me before she fixed her gaze on him.

"I'll be right back. Watch her," she instructed.

He nodded, accepting the task as if it were something serious.

She looked almost terrified up to the church before nodding to us once more and heading around the church rather than inside.

"Do you know why she's here?" I wondered as I watched her dark figure disappear.

He shook his head, "She just asked me if I knew the church. I'd been past it a few times."

I looked to him curiously, seeing that the playful and haughty boy had been replaced by someone more concerned with the girl he hardly knew.

We sat there for quite some time. Almost an hour of filling the silence with questions of Noah's plans for after high-school and mine for returning to California and we still saw no sign of the girl who'd left us sitting there. Noah volunteered to go check on her but I suggested maybe I should go; he wasn't thrilled with the proposal but after assuring him that it would be better than me staying alone in the truck he drove me closer to the church, letting me out on the side. I felt his eyes firmly on me as I turned the same corner Santana had. At first, I couldn't see her over the many headstones and statues. I approached the black fence hoping to catch any glimpse of her. All I saw was gray stone until I saw a quick dark motion, nothing more than a flit of black. I looked quickly for an open gate but when I saw none I looked again for any witnesses. I planted my feet on the base of the fence and placed my hands at the top, careful not to impale myself on any of the posts at the top but I still managed to scratch my wrist on the fence and stumble, falling into the dirt. I pulled myself up, wiping the blood on the hip of my jeans and pushing thoughts of infection to the back of my mind. I approached the spot I'd seen the motion from, uncertain of what I'd find but especially not expecting what I did.

Santana was sitting before two graves, slouched over one bent knee with the other leg casually splayed before her; looking almost as if this were the most natural environment for her. She didn't make any effort to acknowledge me; instead she remained focused on the headstones before her. I finally looked to them myself, shocked at what I saw. The first read, "Doctor Carlos Lopez: A loving husband and father." The second had a similar, "Maricel Lopez: A loving wife and mother." I thought back to the picture Aunt V has shown me and wondered if she'd gotten around to showing it to Santana.

"May I join you?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"I'd rather you didn't," she mumbled her voice retaining a tenseness her body had not, "But I suppose you might as well."

I tried not to be offended as I sat next to her with my legs crossed. The dates on the headstones told me this wasn't a recent event so I had to ask, "How old were you?"

I thought she was slipping back into her old habit again. An uncomfortable silence fell on us again before she answered quietly, "Eight."

I couldn't imagine that; losing both parents so young. I felt my own eyes watering at that thought but no tears fell. I didn't resist the urge to reach down her the hand on her leg.

She flexed her hand and tugged gently but thought better of it, leaving her hand limp in my own.

"Why didn't you come sooner? Nobody would have stopped you," I pointed out.

She shook her head and mumbled against her knee, "Not that this isn't just a wonderful experience, but I didn't want to come, especially not with you."

I bit my lip at that anxiously, finding it harder to brush her words off this time.

She sighed slightly and dropped her head onto her knee. I felt a gentle squeeze from her hand. "I don't like to be vulnerable," she admitted. She shook her head and let go of my hand, bringing hers up to palm her good eye, "I don't like that it actually bothered me when you insulted me, or that you make me nervous. _Nobody_," she emphasized the word, "Makes me nervous."

I blushed at that and looked down to the ground; I still felt guilty for what transpired homecoming night, but I couldn't ignore the fluttery sensation I got in my stomach when she admitted that I made her nervous.

"And they," she let her full focus fall back to the graves; she surprised me as her hand dropped to her mouth slightly, catching a small almost heartbreaking laugh, "they fucking," another laugh, "they just open up a lot of wounds I didn't exactly want to deal with."

I watched the slight hysteria she went through, smiling lightly to herself as I caught a few glimpses of the unshed tears in her eyes.

"I can almost hear her telling me off for cursing and see him snickering behind her back."

"Did Aunt V show you the yearbook?" I wondered.

She nodded, "I'd never see that picture of her before."

"You look like her," I mentioned, reaching to brush my thumb over her untouched cheek.

She pulled back from my touch, her composure slipping away for a moment, "Don't," she almost pleaded, "Just please don't do that."

I nodded mutely and pulled my hand back.

"I'd really just prefer to focus on one fucked up situation at a time," she gave that same disheartened laugh, trying to ease the offense.

I knew we'd need to talk about it at some point but for now I'd wait for her.

We sat together like that for a while. A more comfortable silence fell over us, only broken by the silent mumbling I heard from Santana. I tried listening to it but I couldn't make out the Spanish and the English was too hushed for me to garner much. I thought I heard my name a couple of times but didn't bother to ask why. It was sort of nice sitting with Santana, despite the setting and the circumstances. She was being honest when she admitted to being vulnerable here; she looked so much smaller than normal without her jacket and so withdrawn on herself. She'd pulled her knee to her chest and her other leg went around it on the ground. I sort of liked that she allowed me to see her like that, even if she could have done without my presence. I honestly wouldn't have minded sitting there all day like that but Noah eventually came back to get us. He was careful with his joking at first bat as we watched Santana draw up her walls again, taking up her lax posture and cocky attitude he became his haughty self as well. She'd taken her time to think of herself but I became her priority once more. She worried about my hand while she and Noah helped me over the fence, deciding it was best not to let me jump again. In the car she wiped some blood with her shirt.

The drive back was less tense, our joking more light-hearted. When we got back to the house Noah wouldn't let Santana and me out of the truck without finding out what time we were leaving in the morning. He assured us he'd be joining us. After he left Santana led me inside to the bathroom and washed my hand thoroughly with water and then with alcohol. She left for a moment and came back with Aunt V's first aid kit. Matt, apparently, got injured enough to become well acquainted with it.

"Let me see," she held out her own injured hand as she dug through the box.

I placed mine in hers, palm up as she dug through the kit, fumbling slightly, as she found what she needed. She sprayed some Neosporin carefully onto my palm and ignored my wince in order to place some gauze squares over the wound and began wrapping it.

"Didn't really imagine you as the fence-jumping type," she mumbled.

"Didn't imagine you as the nursing type," I countered, pulling my palm back to examine her handiwork.

"I've had my share of bumps and bruises," she smirked and waved her fingers between us, "And my dad was a doctor."

I grabbed her hand gently by the wrist and touched her fingers, "How did you even manage this?"

"Let's just say Mercedes won't be talking shit for a while."

"What did you do?" I asked, chiding apparent in my tone.

"Doesn't matter now," she shrugged.

I stood up from the toilet lid I'd been sitting on, ready to scold her further when I realize how close we were in the tight space of the bathroom. I felt my cheeks flush as I looked up to her, she wouldn't meet my eyes, if anything she looked away.

"We need to pack," she pointed out, turning away from me to reorganize to first-aid kit before snapping it shut. She took it and disappeared, returning it to wherever it came from.

I went to the room, hoping to start packing; instead I sat on the bed until Santana came back.

When she did come back she went to her suitcase, organizing her already somewhat organized bag. She pulled out her pajamas and her outfit for the next day, laying them messily on top of her suitcase.

"Santana, can we talk about this morning?" I finally blurted, tired of watching her fidget with her bag.

She stiffened as I said that but didn't otherwise respond.

"I mean, I apologize if my advances were genuinely unwelcome but that didn't seem to be the case," I flushed as I went on, dropping my eyes to my lap as I rambled, "At least, it wasn't one of the complaints you voiced."

"What do you want me to say Rachel?" Her voice was unnervingly level as she faced away from me. "That I like my job? That I like that your family treats me like I actually belong? That I'm terrified that if I get fired this will all go away?" Her shoulders remained straight as she pressed, "I like being your friend, I really do, but do you really think Hiram," she paused for a moment, "and, hell, even Leroy would think twice about firing me if they even thought there was more going on between us?"

"I'm sorry Santana I didn't think-"

"That's right," she nodded, standing up and turning to face me, looking edgy as she approached me, "You didn't think, because you don't have to think about me like that." She softened slightly as she came to me, "But that's how it's supposed to be."

"What do you mean?" I asked, nibbling my lip anxiously, unsure of what to expect.

"You're selfish because there's never been a need for you not to be," she brought her hand up to my cheek and I leaned into her touch, "I'm selfish because I've _always _had to be. I don't know what to do, Rachel, I really don't," she sighed, her face finally revealing more than just anxiety, "I don't know how not to be selfish, and I'm not entirely sure I want to be this time."

I moved closer, ready to press our lips together again, hoping to make her lean towards whichever direction would bring her to me.

Our lips were so close, I could almost feel them just as they'd been this morning when her hand dropped to my chest, holding me back slightly, "Just let me think, okay?"

I bit my lip slightly but nodded. Santana looked so small again, like this decision intimidated her. I wanted to talk about it further, ask what she meant about us being selfish, and why she wouldn't want to be, but I let her walk away, grabbing her clothes and leaving me to my thoughts.


	12. I Just Want To Be Your Twizzlers

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review. **

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

Nobody slept more than a few hours that night. After we all finished packing we ate dinner and hung out in the living room. Santana munched on the breadsticks she'd come to favor from the aptly named restaurant. Dad and Daddy cuddled for a while before they chose to sneak off to their room like mischievous teenagers. That left Santana and I to sit on opposite sides of Matt. Aunt V took Uncle James upstairs when the man started nodding off and slipping in and out of conversations. Santana seemed unnerved at that but kept up her conversation with Matt. She was avoiding being alone with me. Finally, when Matt decided he wanted a couple hours of rest before he drove us back to the airport I the morning Santana and I were left alone. She urged me to go to bed while she got a fresh ice pack. I went to the room and settled on the couch; we'd decided not to pull it out since we'd be leaving so early.

When Santana came back into the room she bypassed me entirely, going to her bag to rifle through it, dropping her ice pack as she did. "Have you seen my jacket?" She sounded worried.

I leaned up slightly on my elbow, "I think Aunt V took it to get cleaned."

She worried her lip slightly before nodding and coming over to the couch, "Move over."

I moved, bending my knees and tugging my pillow along to give her space.

She sat on the single cushion and laid her head on the arm she draped over the armrest.

"Are you ready to go back?" I wondered.

I saw the subtle motion of her nod.

"Are you going to quit?" My voice was smaller at that question.

It seemed to take forever for her to respond and when she did the shake of her head was hesitant. I reached up nervously for her uninjured hand, pulling it down gently until I felt it on my hair. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see her annoyance and found myself shocked as she brushed her fingers gently over my hair. I don't think she really slept. I barely blinked before Aunt V was waking us up, Styrofoam coffee cups in hand as Santana and I started carrying our bags outside. The older woman chided us for trying to help, snapping at the men, including a yawning Sam and a drowsy Noah, to load the bags. She drew us back into the house. She pulled a plastic package on a hangar from the coat closet. We watched as she pulled the plastic up to reveal a familiar black coat. As soon as Santana had it in her hands she was swinging it over her shoulder, tugging it on, and zipping it up. She touched the material affectionately, frowned as if something were awry as she sniffed it, and relaxed into it as if she never planned to take it off again.

"Missing something?" Aunt V wondered as she pulled a small plastic bag from the hangar. Upon closer inspection I saw Santana's pocket knives.

She blushed slightly as she took them and slipped them into her pockets with a, "Thank you."

The older woman pulled out an envelope next and handed it to the girl, "I thought you might like these as well."

I watched curiously as Santana pulled out a couple of index cards with a familiar scrawl on them. She flipped through them until she came across something that certainly wasn't just a recipe. The girl hesitated as she pulled the small picture out completely.

"I scanned a couple and printed them," Aunt V mumbled before pulling the girl into a hug, "Take care of my niece."

Santana nodded mutely, looking like she wanted nothing more than to relax into the embrace but not allowing herself to.

I felt almost like I was invading an overly personal moment until Aunt V pulled me into a hug as well, "Please take care of my friend's daughter."

"I'll try," I mumbled. I was less reluctant to relax into the hug.

The intimacy was broken as the woman was urging us back outside to be passed around for further affection. Uncle James hugged Santana just as tightly as he did me, encouraging me to bring her back. Matt made her promise to look into joining some online game with him before kissing my forehead and urging me to do the same. Sam and Noah looked ridiculous in the minivan, forcing Santana to sit between them while I sat shotgun. Dad and Daddy chose to cuddle in the backseat. Honestly, we were quite a sight on the long trip. The boys kept us entertained, singing on key with the songs on the radio unlike the men in the back seat. Even as we passed the large church and Santana fell silent it wasn't exactly sad, even between the somewhat knowing looks Noah and I shared. I saw her hand slip into the pocket I knew contained the full little envelope. At the airport we unloaded quickly before our goodbyes, Santana hurrying to pack her knives away.

"No, seriously, you have to tell me what the outside world is like," Noah urged as he slung his arms over our shoulders.

"You act as if Lima is so cut off," I laughed at the boy.

"It is. You have to call," he repeated, the other two boys agreeing.

"Check out the game, I promise you'll love it," Sam reminded.

"I will, okay? Quit going all nerd on us and say goodbye, and not in na'vi, " she teased the blonde boy.

He turned a bit red before nodding and hugging her shyly, "I don't think Rachel can make you go to the hospital so maybe no more fighting?"

"No promises," she shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes before hugging me too, "We didn't really hang out much but I couldn't have thought of a better homecoming date."

I smiled up at the boy as I pulled back, "Thank you Sam, I feel the same."

Matt got in his last few hugs as well.

"Girls," Daddy called our tickets in hand.

We hugged the boys once more before they drove away. We headed inside altogether. Santana was pretty averse to give up her jacket but when she finally did we got through security without much of a hitch. When we settled at Dad's terminal, since his plane came first, Daddy had succeeded in pulling Dad onto his lap. The shorter man blushed and tried to keep his composure but eventually conceded to relax in the time they had left together. Santana pulled me away for a while, trying to put together a breakfast of more coffee and the cold bagels being sold. She bought extras for Dad and Daddy but took her time walking back. I saw why when we passed the men making out, once again, like teenagers. Santana cleared her throat as she took her seat a few away from us, sipping her coffee. Daddy had taken his own seat next to Daddy as the crimson slowly faded from his face. I sat next to him, a blush of my own dissipating as I handed them their own bagels along with cream cheese packets for Daddy and the rest of my coffee for Dad.

"Thank you sweetheart," he said as he tore the bagel in half and dipped it into the coffee.

"Santana bought it," I corrected.

He sighed before looking to the girl, "Thank you, I guess."

Santana nodded and sunk into her seat, hugging herself slightly.

Dad pulled me to him slightly and kissed my temple, "I'm sorry we didn't spend much time together on this trip; I just got so excited about seeing Daddy."

I nodded understandingly, "It's fine, you've missed him."

"I've missed you too," he assured, "And the next trip will be all about you, I promise."

"I can't wait," I smiled and leaned into his side.

"Hopefully, I can go see your apartment sometime soon," he mumbled.

"That would be wonderful," I couldn't help but beam at that.

We sat together like that, planning trips and talking about places I hoped to take him when he visited. Finally, his gaze drifted to the line beginning to form. That was certainly my least favorite part of my job. After kissing Daddy once more I waited in line with him. Once we got to the front though, he hugged me tightly and gave a morose smile before boarding. We watched him enter the gate before moving to the window, Daddy's arms a familiar presence as they surrounded me, his chin resting on my head up until the plane angled up into the sky and vanished behind the clouds. Even then, there was a moment where we just stared.

An awkward movement caught our attention and finally drew our attention. I looked to see Santana watching us curiously but as Daddy let me go and I moved closer, I saw what almost looked like longing. She was trying so hard not to look so small but it seemed to be harder for her now. I reached for the laptop bag I hadn't meant to saddle her with but she shook her head and handed me my ticket before checking the time on her phone. Our own flight, like every other, mostly consisted of sleeping but it felt more sullen. Daddy wasn't his usually jovial as he stared out of the window, and Santana either opted to shuffle through her recipe cards and photos, trying to appear casual, rather than flirting with the attendants. I could only watch her, hoping for some facetious comment that never came.

A cab ride got us home in the same forlorn environment. Daddy went to sleep right away. I unpacked my bags quickly and stored my suitcase, making it seem like we'd never even left. I went to the room across the hall, maybe hoping to help Santana with her own unpacking, but I found the door was locked. I couldn't help the slight sigh as I turned back heading to my own room. It was easier to just go to sleep in my own bed rather than trying to distract myself with anything else.

}{

By the time I did get up again it was well after dark. I slipped out of the room, yawning as I came to see Daddy sitting on the couch, a take-out box in one hand and chopsticks in the other. He was already back to his usual routine of watching a movie while he ate dinner. I went into the kitchen to find my usual order in the bag as well. I grabbed the box and my own utensils before going to sit next to Daddy and watch the movie.

"When did you order this?" I wondered as I popped a piece of breaded fried tofu into my mouth.

"Santana did," he pointed out, "I feel kind of bad, she's paid for everything today."

I nibbled my lip slightly as I continued eating, "Has she eaten?"

He shrugged, "She stuck her cartons in the fridge and went back to her room. She seems pretty worn out.

I nodded as I tried not to dwell on thoughts of her very long.

Daddy sat in the living room together, watching movies until Dad called. With the phone on speaker we discussed our flights and the deep sleeps we each had afterwards. Dad told us of the panic he'd had as his plane had a slight malfunction and the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. We couldn't help but laugh at it now that we were all safely home. It was comfortable, even if we weren't all together. Eventually, we did have to tell one another goodnight though, Daddy yawning animatedly before he hugged me; his optimism stimulated by the call from his partner. I was less content that the mask that I pulled let on.

I went to my own room, considering going back to sleep but as I fell to the bed and pulled up the covers I couldn't. All I could do was look to the side where I knew Santana could easily fit so her company could lull me to sleep. It was pathetic as I reached to touch the cold sheets before me. My eyes flickered to the door but I tried to keep my thoughts in my own room. I was focused on going to sleep. I was almost convinced I could go to sleep like that when I heard soft footsteps outside my door. I listened to them intently as each footfall moved away from the door, probably towards the kitchen. It wasn't long before they were back and I heard the slight click of the door up the hall. I nibbled my lip slightly before making a decision. I was at the door right away, knocking gently at it. I was a bit surprised at how quickly Santana opened it, rather, she cracked it and I saw her resting her head on the frame as she looked out.

"Can I come in?" I asked, uncertain where the shyness in my voice came from.

She didn't answer, just stared silently at me.

"Please? I-" I worried my lip slightly before admitting, "I can't sleep."

She stared at me silently again and my mind flipped between wondering what else I could say and considering just turning around now. I was leaning more towards the latter when she finally walked away from the door, pushing it open a bit more as she did.

I took it as an invitation and followed her in, watching as she picked up a black tank top from the open suitcase on her floor. She pulled it over her head before moving to sit on the bed, running the fingers of her good hand through her hair, "Any way I could get you to just drop this?"

I nibbled my lip slightly and shook my head.

"Why shouldn't I quit?" She started off, not bothering to look up to me. "You could probably get somebody to replace me, so what's stopping me from going home?"

I felt my heart drop at that. "Because you're my friend, and I can't replace you like that," It spilled out of my voice before I could even think.

"Friends don't kiss friends," She let out a less than amused laugh, "Not the way you did."

"I'm sorry," I almost shouted, "Please don't quit Santana. If I'd known I wouldn't have done it, just don't quit."

She finally looked up, pulling up her blank mask as she waved me forward. When I stood before her she asked, "What do you want from me?"

I didn't know how to answer that. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to sit on her lap like she did with the boys. I wanted her to flirt with me like she did with everyone else. Mostly, I wanted to know I was the only one that got any of that, but I couldn't tell her that.

She stood up, her features frozen in that same blank look as she brought her hand up to my cheek, holding my gaze in her own intense one. She brought her lips down over mine until ours were just barely brushing. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt her warm breath on my skin. "Is this just some experiment?"

I pulled back slightly, looking up to her confused.

"It's fine if it is Rachel," she looked down to me, "But I can't stay once you're done with it."

"What?" I asked, confused by the suggestion.

"I can't stay if you're just going to use me and move on when you've decided that's your thing. I work for you, I can't just-"

I shook my head furiously as I realized what she was saying, "No, no that's not it Santana. I just-" I hesitated, uncertain as I looked down between us, "Back in Lima, every time I saw you flirting with someone I just felt so, ugh," my cheeks burned and I was glad I was already looking down, "Jealous."

There was a moment before she tensed. I knew she'd realized what I'd said, and she took a step back.

"I hated seeing you flirting with them, and when you went with Noah-" I shook my head, trying not to think back on that particular venture, "And when Finn was talking to you at homecoming-"

"Fuck," she groaned, dropping back onto the bed, her head in her hands as she cursed, "You can't be-fuck!"

I shifted anxiously as I watched her.

"What are you saying Rachel?" She asked as she stopped shaking her head.

I brought my arms up over my chest, as if I expected her to lash out.

"I can't be your girlfriend Rachel," she started off, lifting her head from her hands but not enough to look up at me, "I can't do that. I'm just-" she groaned again, "You were right about me. I'm a whore. I sleep around and I'm not the kind of person you'd want."

"No, Santana you aren't. I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it. You're not," I urged. I'd expected anger, or annoyance, but certainly not this.

"You have no idea what's wrong with me Rachel, just-" she was looking through her bed until I saw the small dark figure in her hand, "Who are you calling?"

"I can't stay here," she sighed.

I panicked and reached for the phone, grasping her wrist with one hand and pressing her shoulder to make her look at me. "Santana, I don't need you to be my girlfriend. I just-" I struggled to keep my eyes on hers rather than letting them drop, "I just don't want you to go. We can forget anything happened if you want, but don't leave."

Her eyes flickered to the phone as she thought over what I said. "What if I don't want to forget?"

My eyes widened slightly as I inhaled sharply. Her façade slipped away as she revealed the smaller girl I was finding her to be. I felt her relax slightly and looked up to eyes still unwilling to meet mine. I, hesitantly, brought the hand on her wrist up to her cheek and cup it gently. Her eyes finally met mine as I pulled her down, the kiss soft at first as our lips brushed together. I heard the thump of the phone on the bed as her hands came to my waist. I knew it wasn't, but as our lips meshed warily together I couldn't help but think of how innocent her kiss felt, as if this were her first. Of course, as it went on those thoughts vanished, her presses becoming slightly fiercer and the hands at my waist grasping more surely as she brought me closer to her. It wasn't until I felt her tongue on my lips, asking, well, requesting entrance but with a certainty that knew it would be granted, that I pulled back, acknowledging our need for oxygen. Our breath was somewhat ragged as we stared at each other, trying to read any form of regret from one another. I saw none yet.

"Come here," she called gently, settling on the bed and moving to leave space for me.

I shook my head hesitantly, "Santana, I don't want-"

"Just come here," she urged, the remorse slowly seeping into her features.

I followed her, if only to appease the guilt I saw.

We laid down together and I let her pull me back to her again, our knees pressed gently together. Our breaths mingled between us as we took in the situation mutely. Between the intense locking of our eyes and the fleeting drops of our eyes, we didn't seem to get much done. The only interruption that came was a gentle press of lips to the corner of my mouth whenever Santana wanted my stare back or a crook of my fingers against her cheek when I wanted the same. I wanted to say more, to ask what this was, what she was going to do, if she was going to do anything but I didn't. I knew she wanted to ask more as well, but we both just settled into the silence. Ultimately, I couldn't deny the soothing affect she had on me as we both fell asleep.

}{

I was dreaming. I opened my eyes slowly. I felt warm skin beneath my cheek and gentle breath on my head. I tensed my fists slightly, feeling the fabric bunch in my palms. I tried not to move too much and it didn't prove too much of a task as I realized how comfortable I was. The arms around me felt wonderful and any paranoia I felt about the leg somewhat between my own was pushed aside as I enjoyed the sheer intimacy of the position. I turned my head slightly and my breath caught as I found the dark eyes looking intently down at me. Everything came back to me. Everything we'd said last night. Thursday. It almost flooded me and I had to fight the urge to pull back and begin apologizing again. I wasn't dreaming.

"You should fire me," she stated plainly.

"Why?" I wondered, the sleep still in my voice.

"Because your dads will," she pointed out, "Once they find out."

"I told you I won't tell," I reminded.

She looked almost like she wanted to consider that but shook her head, "You deserve better."

"But I-"I hesitated, not entirely sure how Santana would react to me admitting I want her, "You don't want to be my girlfriend so there isn't anything to tell anyway."

"I shouldn't be anybody's girlfriend," she sighed.

"Don't say that," I chided, nuzzling the neck I'd just been perfectly fitted under.

"Rachel, I'm like a kid in a candy shop," she explained, "I can't focus on any one thing or tell you what I want besides everything. I can't be more specific than that."

I spoke gently against her neck, "You could try."

"You make it sound so easy," she chuckled humorlessly. "What is this?" She asked, leaning back to look fully down at me."

"It doesn't have to be anything," I shrugged, looking down and trying to keep the hurt from my voice and features.

"But that's not what you want," she pointed out, pulling me back to her so we were together again, although I was on her eye level now.

"I-" I breathed, "I want-" I nibbled my lip nervously, "I want you to try. Maybe just try. I don't need you to stop looking at every other candy; I just want to be your Twizzlers. I know you like Rolos, and skittles, and lifesavers, but you always pick Twizzlers first."

She cracked a small smile at that, "You're kind of stuck on that candy store thing aren't you."

I was glad to see her smiling again, I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it, "Shut up."

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted.

"Neither do I," I sighed.

"No," she shook her head, "Like, I haven't this whole time. Rachel, I'm not a bodyguard. My whole life I've had to take care of myself, and this gig, watching over some diva who probably couldn't recognize danger if it walked up to you and held out it's hand, no offense, seemed easy enough; all I'd have to do is just keep you out of trouble the same way I'd do myself. Jesus," she closed her eyes and shook her head; "I've never had to keep myself out of anything like this."

"I'm trying so very hard to find something positive in that profession," I tried to keep the shock from my voice, "but I can't seem to. And you did sort of walk up to me and hold out your hand."

She didn't seem to get it right away but when she did she smiled wryly at me, "I did."

"I'm sorry this wasn't exactly what you signed up for," I breathed as I moved to rest my head on her chest again.

"Don't be," she nuzzled my hair gently, "I'm just a little freaked out."

I nodded understandingly against her before something occurred to me. I called gently, "Santana."

"Hmm," she hummed lowly as I felt her breath on my head.

"Do you think you could still make me breakfast?"

I felt her smile softly into my hair, "Of course."


	13. Because I Treat That Shit Like Frosting

**A/N: I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review. **

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

Santana really was just following my lead; for once I really did feel in charge. Watching Santana make breakfast used to be a simple activity for us; her teasing me while I questioned her on one subject or pleaded with her not to taint the food with anything I couldn't eat. Then, it consisted of me watching curiously as she focused solely on the food, flinching at everything she mistook for Daddy's footsteps, or every small gesture from me that could be misconstrued as more than our usual jesting. That really set the theme for the weekend. She did her best to keep our interactions as close to our norm, but I would be the one pressing for more.

"There should be a comma there," she pointed to the computer screen, a bit more relaxed since Daddy left to meet with some friends.

"Santana," I sighed, taking the hand that lingered before the screen.

"Rachel, we should…" she trailed off as she allowed me to pull her forward.

I urged the laptop to the foot of the bed as she moved, on hands and knees as she licked her lips hesitantly.

"What about your work?" She worried as she leaned uncertainly over my lap.

I brushed my fingertips gently up her arm to cup her cheek gently, "I'm ahead anyway."

"We could finish," she turned her head back to the computer, ready to settle back onto her calves.

"Later," I urged, tugging her toward me by her shirt collar. Our lips met gently at first, hers brushing over mine tenderly before I felt the press I'd been waiting for.

I felt her hand on my hip as she leaned into the kiss, her tongue teasing over my lips gently. I untangled my crossed legs to lie back when I felt her getting ready to settle beside me.

"Wait, what're you doing?" I wondered, moving to settle under her once more.

"Lying next to you," she scoffed.

"I know, but why?"

"Because," she shrugged, obviously lacking a real reason.

I smiled slyly before kissing the corner of her mouth, "Because you don't think I can handle it?"

She shrugged again.

"Or because you can't handle it?"

She huffed at that, finally pressing me back as she settled between my bent knees. She rested on one elbow as the hand on my hip slipped to the small of my back and our lips connected once more.

"You didn't really think you were my first kiss, did you?" I wondered as her lips trailed to my jaw.

"Even if I did, I remember Cosette would have gotten that pleasure," she mumbled before I felt a sharp pain on my neck.

"No biting," I almost shouted. I couldn't think to cover the red that overtook my face as she pulled back.

The amusement on her face almost disgusted me, "Am I the first to do that?"

"No," I brought my hand up to feel the spot, "Which is why I know it wouldn't be the best way for us to remain inconspicuous."

Her amusement dulled but didn't vanish entirely, "Fine, no biting."

She came back to me for a moment, drawing my lips between hers. I was glad to relax into the embrace, enjoying that she was mine and nobody else's in that moment. Her tongue was certainly a welcome presence as I parted my lips for her; expertly seeking my own. The affection distracted me so much I didn't even notice Santana's wandering hands until her thumbs brushed the bottoms of the cups of my bra. "No don't it-" I watched her hand pull away from my shirt quickly. She pulled away, watching with hesitant eyes for the cry of wolf that would bring, well, nobody.

"What?" She asked her eyes locked on me on the off chance that she would somehow miss the answer.

I worried my lip slightly before leaning up, grasping the hand that had just been on me nervously. She was tentative to follow at first but allowed me to bring her hand back to my chest, over my shirt. I leaned back, drawing her open palm onto my breast just as anxiously. There was beat before I relaxed under her touch, finally looking up to meet her eyes and giving a resolute nod as I did so. Another beat would come before I felt the tense grasp of her hand over me. I couldn't restrain the shaky breath that came as I felt my jaw quite literally drop and I doubt Santana would have wanted me to as that seemed to be all it took to get her moving again. She was still tense, this time in an effort to restrain herself, but I was certainly pleased she'd grown more relaxed, and I certainly couldn't complain.

}{

Santana was still paranoid about getting caught, but we were both finding it easier to slip into our old ways. I can't even begin to explain the relief that settled over her that Monday as we got into the car. She just looked visibly less likely to spontaneously combust. It gave me that feeling that everything had just been a dream once more; watching her drive while I fiddled with the radio. Her jacket tugged on, her hair back in her messy bun, and her sunglasses on. But every time I felt her eyes on me, even past the dark tint over them, the lack of a sarcastic comment is what would remind me that I could easily lean over and kiss her without repercussion, except maybe getting us pulled over if she happened to lose focus on the road before us.

Work itself was interesting. Santana was still very careful to seem disinterested in me, but she did keep up the more observant tendencies I'd seen in Lima. We put in a great deal more effort that first day back. Any times in my dressing room didn't last very long, and we didn't see much of Cosette while she was busy with the director. Santana said she hadn't told her, but every time I saw her she'd give me a somewhat knowing smile. Santana would tell me not to worry about it while she sat in my seat and then send me back to do my next scene. Although, I would have to talk to her eventually.

"Stop fidgeting," Santana chided as we made our way to the trailer, ready for a late lunch as she carried the bag of food she'd ordered for us.

"But-"

"But nothing," she reminded, "You still share a dressing room with Cosette."

We were both a little surprised to see the girl sitting on the steps of the trailer, "She does. Is there a problem with it?"

"No," I smiled before looking pointedly to Santana, "San's just been assuring me that even though we haven't had much time to catch up I'd still see you around here."

"Glad to see I matter so much," she dropped her cigarette butt to stomp it out before coming to give me a hug, "So, tell me about all the heartbreak and home-wrecking that happened in Kansas."

"Ohio," I corrected as she led me into the trailer.

"Same thing," she scoffed.

"No they ar-"

"I was waiting for a tornado to come rescue us either way, Rachel," Santana reminded as she sat on the couch and pulled out our food.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes and sat on the arm next to her

"You've been rubbing off on her," Cosette pointed out from her own seat.

Santana managed to muffle her laughter by choking thoroughly on her sandwich.

"So, tell me about all the small town drama."

When I was certain Santana wasn't going to die and she'd assured me she wasn't putting the sandwich down I looked back to Cosette, "Well, nothing really happened with Finn-"

"Oh yeah? Tell her about homecoming," Santana challenged.

I blushed slightly, "We went with a nice boy, Sam, and we danced for a while and even got to perform. Did you know Santana can sing?"

"Ask her if she knew Santana got to taste like not one but four flavors of slushy," Santana scowled at the sandwich in hand.

I blushed slightly under the other girls amused gaze, "Oh my god! That really happened? I thought she was just whining."

"No, they really did it," I nodded.

Santana made me eat while I told Cosette of our adventures in, Kansas, Missouri, Kentucky, and every other state she deemed boring enough to be equated to Ohio. She was excited to hear about Finn, although she was disappointed it didn't get much farther. She didn't seem very shocked about anything that happened to Santana. She understood how she and Quinn clashed, didn't get how Santana ended up so injured or even took the slushies for so long. At the mentions of Sam and Noah she seemed disappointed Santana had no kind of review about the boy's lips, and asked that one of the mohawked children be named after her. It felt too soon before we were headed back out to get in a few more scenes.

"I know everyone does it," Cosette left me with a few parting words as Santana walked out ahead of us, "but try not to stare so hard at her ass."

I felt my face flush thoroughly as I watched her jog up to Santana, bumping her shoulder before heading back to the set.

"I'm pretty sure she knows," I mentioned as I caught up to Santana.

"Who wouldn't," she scoffed, "as much as you check me out."

I gaped at her before mumbling, "Everyone does it."

I didn't bother looking up to the smirk on her face.

}{

"Like this?" I asked against Santana's neck, my lips pressed firmly against her skin.

She nodded and her fingers tangle in my hair before letting out a somewhat breathy, "Mhum."

I took the opportunity to pull her skin gently between my lips and suck, letting out a muffled yelp as her hips bucked gently beneath me. "Good?" I asked as she gripped the back of my shirt gently.

"Very," she nodded, surprising me again as she rolled us over.

I couldn't stifle my laughter as she kissed from my lips down to my neck, letting the laughter fade to breathy moans as gentle kisses became nips licks that I would have gladly discouraged if my mind weren't elsewhere.

"What were we doing before this?" She wondered as she relaxed against me, resting her head next to mine.

I laughed again and turned my head to kiss her, "Online classes."

"I think we should still do that by the way," she pointed out.

"Really?"

"Don't sound so shocked," she rolled onto her back, "I'm trying to keep up the appearance of being a responsible adult."

I scoffed at that.

"You really need to stop doing that," she laughed.

"You do it all the time," I pointed out, moving to straddle her hips again.

"Exactly," she quirked her eyebrows.

I pulled her up so that I was cradled between her knees and torso, my hands on her shoulders slightly, "Take your hair down."

"Why?" She asked, already reaching for her hair tie.

"Because I like it better down," I explained, already reaching to muss it up as it fell over her shoulders.

I felt her lips on my neck again as I fingered the long tresses, "Who said I care how you like it?"

"Well," I tilted my head for her, "there is the argument that since you took it down you did."

She nodded playfully, "Smartass."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. I enjoyed Santana's wandering hands as she learned to keep them at bay. Massaging up and down my back and grasping at my hips before they slipped lower. I couldn't help the subtle roll of my hips as I felt her hand dip below my back. I flushed slightly and felt a little more than apologetic as I sunk my teeth slightly into the lip I'd captured.

"Fuck," she moaned, or yelped, or maybe even both.

"Oh my," I grasped her chin, trying to see if I'd hurt her, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just," she licked her lip gently, "Maybe a little more warning next time you decide you want to get frisky."

"Santana," I chided, feeling the color of my cheeks.

"Aside from me," she started, already slipping her arms lazily back around me, "What do you want for dinner?"

I leaned forward, choosing to nuzzle her neck rather than let her continue to watch me turn various shades of red, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to try one of Aunt Viv's recipes."

She shrugged slightly, "If you want." She reached over to the envelope she'd left on her nightstand. If I had to guess, she hadn't touched it since we'd gotten back.

She pulled out the handful of papers and rested them on my stomach as I leaned back against her knees.

"How about, um, spaghetti? I think I can drop the meat," she asked holding up one of the cards.

I was already holding the pictures of her mother. She noticed and let the hand with the recipe drop back to the bed.

"How come you haven't put them up somewhere?" I wondered as I looked over the pictures.

She shrugged silently, her mood obviously not in the same light state it had been a few minutes ago.

I couldn't help but reach forward, tracing the curve of her cheeks as I followed the lines distinctly set in the picture. I dropped my thumb to her lips, smiling when I felt her kiss the tip softly, "Put those away so we can run to the store."

"Do you have anymore," I didn't mean to ignore her question but I was curious.

She shrugged but nodded.

"Can I see?"

She wouldn't meet my gaze, and if it weren't for our positions I suppose she would have been able to ignore me much longer. She was trying so hard again to be that same small girl from the graveyard, the apart, and I suppose even from the swings, but I was finding I sort of liked that girl.

"Please," I tried again.

"What's the point?" She tried to keep her irritation out of her voice.

I hadn't expected her to snap at me, but nodded silently.

She sighed before slipping the rest of the recipes into the envelope and dropping it on the nightstand. She urged me off of her lap before going to her closet. She pulled out the silver case I hadn't seen in quite a while and brought it to the bed, dropping it at the foot of the bed and opening it. It was empty save for the cushions that usually contained her small arsenal. I was going to point it out when she dug her fingers into sides, shimmying out the cushion to reveal the treasures beneath. She pulled out a picture and looked it over, her face blank as she scanned it. She held it out for me to look over and I took it curiously. It was a picture of Maricel, sitting cross-legged on a floor; a baby, hardly older than a year rested on her lap, a head of dark curls placed on her thigh as the mother played with her daughters curls.

"That's you?" I asked curiously, tracing over her features to find the infant in the picture.

She nodded silently, picking up the next picture, repeating her process before handing it to me. This one was of the same baby resting on the chest of a much lighter man. His hair was thick but cut fairly short. A thick line of the same dark hair, shared by the baby, ran over his top lip. He had a subtle smile on his face as he watched the small girl resting atop him, nothing but affection in his eyes. When I looked up this time, expecting to see the same darkened features, instead I was met by darkened eyes as she dropped her head. I wanted to say something but my voice stuck in my throat.

I wasn't sure what I expected when she came back to the side of the bed but it certainly wasn't for her to pull me onto her lap, nuzzling my back as she pulled the case towards us. I saw the last picture atop some trinkets. I reached for the picture first. The man held the girl, obviously much older now, on his shoulders as he beamed at the camera wearing a jacket I recognized fondly. He pulled his wife close and she was obviously putting up a bit of a struggle as she tried to hide her face but her smile was still evident. The girl could only look on animatedly as she leaned forward, a handful of dark hair in her grasp. I flipped the picture to read a date set in late august in a sloppy but still somehow elegant scrawl over the words, "'Tana's eighth birthday." Behind me Santana let out a heart wrenching breath that she could have easily been holding since we'd left the graveyard. Her arms were tight on my waist and her breaths were coming out almost raggedly. I wanted to turn to see her, maybe to comfort her, but her grasp only tightened, relaxing when I ceased the struggle.

A hand at my elbow encouraged me on. I took the trinkets from the case, spreading them across my palm; on a chain a golden crucifix and two wedding bands, a tarnished old Zippo lighter, and a charm bracelet that looked as if it could have just come out of the box. The hand on my elbow dropped back to my waist, she had no desire to touch her belongings, their belongings. I had so many questions about them; I wanted to ask about the charms that were obviously more than just shiny trinkets. Whose was the humble crucifix that sat where others might choose a more ostentatious piece? Why didn't she carry the lighter? Finally, I wanted to ask what took her from such an obviously loving family. Instead, I slipped everything back into her box with care; replacing the jewelry, photos, and cushions to make it seem like the empty shell once more.

"San," I tried to turn again, hoping to see her face.

She let me go this time, but she moved off of the bed, taking her case back to the closet. She kept her face to the doorway as her voice came far cleared than I expected, "Go get ready so we can go to the grocery store."

I was off the bed, my hand gently on her shoulder, "Santana."

"Rachel, go," she was trying to make it sound like an order but it came across more as pleading.

I worried my lip but nodded. I dropped my hand to hers, giving a final squeeze before going.

}{

She didn't have her coat on when we left the apartment, just the tank top and jeans she'd been wearing all day, and of course her sunglasses. I wanted to ask my questions, but the set of her jaw told me that not only would she ignore them she'd probably get annoyed. I settled for playing with the radio. When we actually got to the store she seemed more relaxed, easing a bit more into the jesting we usually partook in.

"Okay, I get it, rabbit food isn't exactly my thing," she shrugged, "But that melon's no good."

"How do you know?" I scanned over the melon skeptically. It looked like every other one.

"Trust me," she took the cantaloupe and scratched the spot the stem had once been before sniffing it. She repeated the process several times before dropping one into my hands.

I looked it over before sniffing it just as she had. It was obviously sweet. I followed her and dropped it into the cart carefully.

"Would it kill you if we had mozzarella cheese? Like you're not going to die?"

I rolled my eyes at her, "It wouldn't kill me."

"Good," she nodded, "Because I treat that shit like frosting."

I gaped at her before shaking my head.

"Rachel," she called her voice almost playful.

"What?" I wondered, looking over.

She stepped back slightly and gestured to the cart.

I didn't understand.

"Come here," she called.

I went to her, a bit surprised when she blocked me into the space between her and the cart.

"Hop up," she mumbled.

"Santana, I'm not a child," I crossed my arms as I faced her.

She smirked, "About as tall as one but that's not what I said. Now hop up."

I rolled my eyes once more but couldn't dispute how glad I was to see that smirk. I gripped the handle to pull myself up and settle my feet on the bottom rack. I felt her chest on my back as she pushed us around, grabbing what she needed as well as restocking her candy supply. I could still tell she was tense, but I didn't know if she was putting up a front or genuinely relaxed.

"You don't need that much candy," I argued.

"You're not going to win this argument," she shrugged, "And do you know why not?"

I sighed but asked anyway, "Why, Santana? Why won't I win this argument?"

"Because I'm paying for my own candy, and I'd gladly by you your own candy but-"

"Jolly Ranchers," I announced.

"And here I was thinking you were just stuck up; apparently you do have a sweet tooth," she chuckled as she dropped a few bags onto her own pile of candy. It was disgusting really, but I wasn't actually going to say that while she was buying me Jolly Ranchers.

She started right away when we got home. Apparently Aunt V's secret to perfect spaghetti sauce consisted of mixing Ragu and Pregu. She heated it quickly and boiled the water. Despite my complaint she'd lifted me onto the counter where I ended up sitting and watching her cook while I ate my jolly ranchers. She stole a couple of cherry and apple ones while she cooked. When Daddy came into the kitchen he seemed glad to see Santana. She was tense but she relaxed along with his joking eventually. Dinner was easy enough to get through, even with Santana's hesitant glances. Afterwards, I was expecting to follow her into her room or lead her into mine.

"Rachel," she called quietly, glancing up and down the hall to make sure Daddy wasn't coming.

"Yes," I smiled as I resisted the urge to kiss her there.

"I'm not feeling well," she sighed, "I think I'm going to sleep alone tonight, alright?"

I tried, and most likely failed to keep my face from falling, "Alright."

"But I'll show you something fun with the Jolly Ranchers tomorrow if you don't eat them all," she gave a half-hearted wink.

I nodded and pulled on a smile as she kissed my forehead hesitantly before slipping back into her room. I was worried as I went to my own room. It was hard to sleep in the cold bed, even harder knowing Santana was suffering in her own room. I wanted to go to her room to sleep but I hoped staying would be better for her.

Work the next day wasn't bad just different. Santana was distracted by her own thoughts most of the time, of course, that didn't mean I didn't feel her eyes on me protectively. Cosette even mentioned it but I didn't have any sort of explanation for the girl's behavior. Back at home she stuck to her room for a while, claiming she still wasn't feeling well enough to help with my assignments and skipping dinner. I was worried, but it didn't last long. I hoped it wouldn't last too long, and by the third day of it I was trying to decide whether to go to her room or not. I was pulled out of my thoughts by my own door opening. She glanced in, her face shadowed slightly but her posture gave away her anxiety.

"Rache," she called gently.

"Come here," I sat up almost immediately as I heard her voice, rather, somebody's timid voice for it certainly wasn't one I recognized.

She didn't need me to ask again as she came forward, slipping under the covers.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I pulled her into my arms.

She didn't answer she just let me hold her as we laid back.

"Are you alright?" I tried again.

And again, she silently relaxed against me, letting me rub her back.

We both went to sleep a bit disoriented.

I woke up before her, choosing to watch her relaxed expression, the residue of tear tracks down her cheeks. I didn't bother to stop myself as I brought my finger up to trail the tips gently over her cheeks. At ease in her sleep I could recognize that she truly once was the dozing child from the pictures. I smiled at the thought, trailing my fingers up to the waves that at one point had been those tight dark curls. I hadn't even noticed hooded dark eyes watching me intently, until a hand came up, and I felt her fingers lace through mine.

"What do you want to know?" She offered, offering me the time while her walls were down.

**A/N: Alright, here's a little challenge, first person to send me a PM telling me the scene from Spring Awakening I've paralleled in this I'll write you a quick pezberry one-shot about anything you want.**


	14. Movies, Games, Booze, AndTake Out

**A/N: I feel a little weird about this chapter but meh. Hope you guys enjoy. I always appreciate reviews. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review. **

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

Days before I knew what I wanted to ask, but now that Santana was looking up at me so hopelessly tired of struggling to not be vulnerable I couldn't think of any. She just looked exhausted. I worried my lip slightly and felt her thumb brushing over the crook of my own. After a period of silence I could see her walls coming up.

"We have to leave in a couple of hours," she pointed out silently.

"Will," I licked my lip slightly, "Will you tell me about their stuff? Like the pictures and the bracelet?"

She didn't seem entirely certain but she eventually nodded, "Yeah." She finally dropped her gaze. I felt her sigh against my chest before she began.

"Those were your parents?"

The first pictures she was, of course, too young to remember. The third, however, she remembered as clearly as if it were just yesterday. As it said, it was her eighth birthday. Her parents wanted to take her to the zoo. She struggled to remember which exhibit they were at for the picture, either the monkeys or the wolves. She told me about how her father had asked a man nearby to take the picture and even though he and Santana always assured her mother that they loved her smile she still didn't like having her picture taken.

"What about their stuff?"

The rings were their engagement rings; they'd been buried in their wedding bands. The crucifix was her mother's, a gift from her father. The lighter had belonged to her father; apparently it had even belonged to her great-grandfather before him when he lived in Puerto Rico. Finally, I wanted to know about the bracelet. That seemed like the hardest for her to speak about but she did. The monotonous pattern she'd been speaking with the whole time finally faltered, I could hear the slight cracking of her voice as she explained. It was another gift from her father to her mother. It held a soccer ball, because her father had played in his younger days, a heart with a green stone set into it, peridot for Santana's birthday, a small circle with a sand dollar design on it, for their honeymoon in Miami, and a house that apparently came with the couple's first home together. She said she still vividly remembered that house.

"How, um, how did it happen?"

I got no answer to that.

}{

"I missed your birthday," I mentioned as we sat in the car. Really, we were early and just sitting in the car.

Her hands were clenched on the steering wheel as she stared ahead. She nodded mutely.

"I wish I'd known I could have gotten you a present."

She smiled slightly, "I'm fine."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her in the silence of the car.

"I've never shown anyone that stuff," she mumbled, and I saw that her fingers were pale from how tightly she was gripping the steering wheel.

I had no idea what to say to that, so I reached up, trying to coax her fingers from the wheel. It worked but not in the way I was hoping as she pulled back from my touch.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head slightly, "I just," she worried her lip slightly before looking seriously at me, "Do you want to sleep with me?"

I was confused by the change of subject and became somewhat flustered, "Uh- well- Santana, I-"

"Because you said you wanted to be in love," she said quietly, maybe more to herself than to me, "That's something you don't do with everyone; this," she gestured between us, "Isn't something I do. I'm not used to letting anybody this," she hesitated, searching for a word, "close."

"Santana," I started, only for her to hold up a hand.

"I already told you that I don't know what I'm doing," she sighed, "So I'm going to ask you to be patient with me." She brought her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose, "I don't know what you want from me but I'm not entirely against what it's doing to me," she let out another of those hysterical laughs, "And trust me, it's doing a lot."

"Do you want to stop?" I wondered, "Or quit?"

I hated those long silences she gave but I was finally settled when she shook her head.

}{

"You two are depressing me," Cosette mentioned as she sat in the doorway of the trailer, a cigarette in hand.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled over my sandwich.

Santana only stared on in boredom, finally pulling from her thoughts.

"I was thinking you two hooking up would make you more exciting but you've only managed to make her boring," she pointed at me with her cigarette.

"And what do you propose we do about that?" Santana asked, finally speaking after the day spent thoughtfully silent.

She tapped her lip gently before coming to a decision, "We're having a sleepover."

I fully believed Santana might pull a muscle from how hard she rolled her eyes.

"That's you're plan?" I wondered, finally putting my sandwich down.

The girl nodded, putting out her cigarette before going to Santana and patting the girl's cheek almost roughly, "Do you need me to pick you guys up or can you drive?"

Santana only scowled at the motion, "I'll call you."

"Bring your own gear, I don't share my bed unless I'm getting some," she turned to head out of the trailer.

I looked to Santana curiously; glad to see an amused smile on her face, "What does this mean, exactly?"

"It means we have plans for the night," She shrugged.

}{

Santana dropped a duffle bag onto my bed. Her clothes were already inside it. She sat on the edge of my bed, still looking silently thoughtful as I slipped my pajamas and clothes for the next day into it. She was fidgeting with something in her hand. I'd just zipped up the bag and stacked a pillow and throw blanket next to it when I caught a slight metallic glint. I went to her side and paused her hand, drawing her fingers open to see the small tarnished lighter in hand. I brushed my fingertips gently over her open palm, feeling the cold metal and her warm skin.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," I offered.

She shook her head, "You want to, I'll be fine."

"We could just stay here and watch movies on the computer," I offered, bringing my other hand up to cup her cheek and make her look at me. Her eyes were full of uncertainty.

"Let's go," she urged, standing up and slipping the lighter into her pocket, "You'll have fun."

I nodded silently before standing on my toes to press my lips to hers tenderly, "If you're sure."

She nodded before grabbing the bag, pillow, and blanket. She assured me she could grab something from Cosette's room. I told Daddy where we were going and he told us to have a good night. Santana led me to the car and we loaded in quickly before taking off. Santana seemed more relaxed this time around as we drove. She encouraged me to turn up the radio and I even saw her singing along for a while. When we pulled up I kind of hoped this night would be good for her.

"Got you something special princess," Cosette called to me as we entered the apartment.

"Thank you?" I wasn't entirely certain I wanted to know what it was.

"Go check the fridge, it's on the door," she urged, helping Santana to drop everything next to the couch.

I did as she said and went to the fridge, taking note that all that was there were condiments, salad dressings, and some of the lemonade they'd given me the night we went to the club.

"Are you going to stare at it or are you going to drink one?" I jumped as I heard Santana's voice.

"I'm just considering my previous experiences with alcohol," I stood up and turned around.

"I can get that," she nodded and smirked "How about you split one with me and I'll keep Cosette off of you?"

I felt my cheeks burn but still laughed, "Alright." I reached to take one, letting her pull the cap off of it.

"Are you two going to get it on in my kitchen, because I think you should know where the bleach and Lysol are if you are," Cosette pointed out, coming to take a beer of her own from farther in the fridge.

I had no response for that as my blush deepened.

"As if I'd clean," Santana scoffed, taking my hand as she pulled me out of the kitchen and back into the living room. We sat on the couch and she crossed her legs as she kicked her feet onto Cosette's coffee table, "So, what, exactly, were your plans for this sleep over?"

"Movies, games, booze, and take out,"

"I'm not paying this time," Santana declared.

"I bought the booze so unless Rachie's paying then I guess you're wrong," Cosette was waving around with her beer bottle. She and Santana were locked in a staring contest before Santana scowled and gave up.

"Whatever," the Latina mumbled before plucking the bottle from my hands to take a drink.

}{

"Stop," I swatted at Santana's hand as she tried taking my tomato.

"Why can't you just share? It's a damn tomato Rachel," she plopped the tomato into her mouth before going back to the pizza on her lap.

"You two are disgustingly cute," Cosette pointed out.

"Shut up," Santana mumbled past her pizza.

I shoved her gently, "Be nice."

"You heard her," Cosette smirked at her.

We'd changed into pajamas well before the food got there and Santana begrudgingly paid. I was glad when she'd let her hair down. After we'd finished eating we started a round of video games and I was certainly glad to see her smiling as she beat Cosette and me a couple of times, and even when she lost she still seemed better than she had been in days prior. I was glad. Finally, Cosette put on some comedy while I sat on the couch and Santana sat on the floor in front of me digging through our bag.

"Quit, I'm trying to do something," Santana murmured as I ran my fingers gently through her hair and rubbed her scalp.

"What exactly is it that you're doing then?" I wondered as I kissed her head.

"Um," she hummed, taking her slight moment of focus to find what she was looking for. I heard the crinkle of plastic and realized what it was. I already knew what it was but I leaned forward anyway to see the red candy hanging from between her lips.

"You're so immature," I laughed and kissed her forehead.

"You sure you want to sit there and insult me?" She held up another bag.

I took it and tore it open, "You never did show me how fun these can be." I unwrapped a jolly rancher before slipping it in my mouth.

"Mhum," she nodded, "I can still show you."

"You two are both disgusting me," Cosette pointed out, "But I'm glad to see you're acting less like corpses."

"So, are you going to be creepy and watch us make out?" Santana asked around another candy.

"Whatever," the girl stood up stretching, "Don't break anything."

"What could we possibly break?" I wondered, looking uncertainly between them.

"The couch," Santana nodded.

"My coffee table," Cosette groaned.

"The showerhead."

"The bath faucet."

"Any door."

"Stop," I shook my head as I blushed, "Okay, we won't break anything, just go."

Cosette scowled between us before turning, "Keep her in line Rachel."

Santana rolled her eyes before pulling me down for a bruising kiss and I was a bit uncertain how to do it upside down but soon enough she was on her feet, assuring me she'd be right back before jogging down the hall. I heard a violent thud before Santana came back in the room flipping off the other girl as she held a pillow under her arm.

When she came back to me I saw a fading red mark on her cheek, "How did you two manage to stand each other long enough to sleep together?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" She asked, picking up my pillow and blanket to drop on the couch.

"No, not really," I sighed as I organized them for us to sleep. She turned off the lights and turned down the volume on the television before coming back to the couch.

"Come here," she called, picking up the bag of Jolly Ranchers. She found one she seemed pleased with and unwrapped it. As I sidled up to her she brought it up to my lips and I accepted it gratefully, enjoying the cherry taste.

"Now what?" I wondered.

"Now this," she smirked and leaned forward pressing her lips to mine. We kissed gently and I genuinely missed it. I let her pull me until she was lying back and I was on top of her. Our kisses were tender and languid and I welcomed the embrace as she traced my lip gently with her tongue.

At least, I welcomed it until I had no choice but to pull back, "You stole my candy!"

I saw as she pushed it around her mouth gently and winked at me. "Come steal it back," she held it between her teeth.

I bit my lip gently before resettling against her, ready to do exactly that.

We passed the candy playfully back and forth until it had entirely melted and we were just kissing quietly.

"I missed this," I breathed as I pulled back gently.

"What?" She wondered as she licked her lips.

"You being like this," I pecked her lips gently, "Happy, cocky, and the slightest bit bitchy."

She smirked, "I didn't know you were into that."

I gave a smirk of my own, "Maybe just a little bit."

"I've been a terrible influence on you," she laughed slightly.

"Can't say I'm too upset about it," I shrugged, resting my head on the pillow next to hers

"Me either," she brushed her lips over mine.

It grew silent and I just enjoyed being so close to Santana. I worried my lip slightly as a thought came to me, I wasn't entirely certain if she was awake when I whispered, "How exactly do you break a door?"

She chuckled quietly, "Not that I haven't seen it done, but it's not so much breaking the door as breaking the hinges or even the knob."

"Oh god," I groaned and shook my head, pulling the blanket up over us.

"He comes up a lot during the process."

}{

"Really? You let her top you?" I woke up to the sound of Cosette's complaint.

"What?" I groaned into the dark hair I'd been nuzzling comfortably.

"You had to wake her up?" Santana mumbled.

"You're so whipped," I saw the girl watching us from the hallway roll her eyes before going to the kitchen.

Santana looked as if she wanted to tackle the girl but her eyes flitted to me, "Come on, let's go see if she has more than booze in her fridge."

I got off of her and held out my hand to help her up. She stretched slightly and I couldn't help but watch as her shirt pulled up slightly, revealing her toned stomach.

"I'm not breakfast," she brushed her lips over mine before heading into the kitchen.

I smiled and followed her, standing on my toes to press my lips to her neck gently, "Are you sure?" I bit her neck sharply.

"Not entirely," she gasped and turned. She pulled me in her arms as she leaned against the counter and pressed her lips to my ear, whispering to me, "Don't start anything you don't intend to finish." I couldn't fight a moan as she pulled my earlobe between her teeth.

"I'm trying to remember why I thought inviting you two over would be a good idea," Cosette groaned.

"Because you're a freak and thought you'd get to watch us get our mack on," Santana explained.

"I'm sure that's why," I rolled my eyes before resting my head on her shoulder.

Cosette smirked, "Of course, watching you two get it on while she moans SAT vocab is all I've ever wanted. In fact," she came over and urged me away from Santana. The taller girl seemed amused until Cosette twisted her arm behind her back and pushed her forward over the counter, she waved me over and although I was reluctant to at first I let her position me behind Santana, "this is exactly how I'd imagine it going."

I took in our positions and let go of Santana's arm although she didn't right herself right away, instead she gave a devious smirk and challenged, "You're just mad 'cause you have to break my arm to bend me over. Rachel'd just have to ask."

I can't properly explain how wide my eyes were or how red my face was I pulled away from her.

"Is that so?" Cosette wondered aloud, "So Rach, are you going to?"

"What? I-" I looked between them, quickly growing flustered.

The smirk on Santana's face relaxed to something gentler as she came forward and kissed my head, "Okay, no more teasing. Go call Leroy and tell him we'll be home before noon and I'll get something together for breakfast."

I nodded and went to the living room, grabbing my phone from the coffee table to call Daddy. My cheeks still burned slightly but once I told Daddy about our night and when we'd be home I was smiling. Cosette came in the room and took her usual chair.

"So, you've kind of got her around your finger, huh?" She teased, although it was more playful now.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Like she said," the girl shrugged, "You just have to ask."

My cheeks were warm again but I was easily distracted as Santana came in the room, "So, Cosette apparently doesn't believe in breakfast beyond stupid shakes, so I'll stop you at a diner or something on the way home."

"Alright," I smiled up at her as she came to the couch and pulled me onto her lap.

"So, how exactly did this happen?" Cosette asked.

Santana shrugged, "She's the jealous type apparently."

"I can see it," the other girl nodded.

"I'm not," I challenged although I was certain I didn't even believe it.

Santana laughed and I felt her rubbing my hip gently, "Liar."

}{

"Thank you for breakfast," I called as we got to our apartment.

"Like I'd let you starve," She scoffed.

"That was a fun night," I assured, "And you're certainly less morose."

"I was not morose," Santana scowled.

"Sure you weren't, now come on, let's go lay back down." I led Santana to her room and she was ready to lay down, falling on her stomach and hugging her pillow as she made herself comfortable.

"I like my bed more than Cosette's couch," she sighed.

I slipped into the bed behind her and kissed across her shoulders gently before fitting myself against her, "You aren't just going to go to sleep are you?"

"Unless you had something better in mind," she nuzzled her pillow gently.

"Maybe," copied the motion in her hair.

"What're you thinking?" She asked.

I kissed her neck gently, and pressed my hand onto her back, massaging gently, "I just don't want to sleep."

"What do you want then?" She sighed comfortably.

"You've been asking me that a lot lately," I pointed out.

She nodded slightly, "Because I want to know."

"Remember back in Lima," I worried my lip slightly, but went on, "When we were talking about, um, sexual, uh," I had to stop to correct myself, "Sex."

She finally turned over, her full attention on me as she looked me over, trying to tell if I was being serious, "I was just teasing Rach."

"Oh," I looked away.

Her hand on my cheek brought my eyes back up to hers, "But we can talk if you want to."

I'm certain I'd filled some sort of quota of blushing for the day.

"Like what exactly do you want to talk about?" She sounded pretty uncertain herself.

"Well," I finally sat up, looking away from her, "I don't quite know."

"Okay, well," she sat up too, pulling me comfortably against her, "How about you tell me what you do know?"

"I know the mechanics of it, birds and the bees and all that but I don't entirely know how to, um," I stopped talking as I heard her laughing. My eyebrows knit together as I glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I'm not laughing at you, just, that's kind of something you learn as you go, so I can't really do any hands on teaching."

I was still scowling at her as she continued chuckling.

When she finally calmed enough she pulled me back towards her and kissed my head, "I think I can figure something out though, go get your computer."

I gave her one last scathing glance before doing as she said.

When I came back she'd gotten more comfortable on the bed; changing into the exercise clothes that doubled as sleepwear and pulling her blanket over her as she rested on her elbows. I set the computer in front of her and she began searching through some webpage called Redtube. I was nuzzling up next to her when she had a video cued up. She turned the volume down rather low before rolling onto her back and pulling me on top of her. I felt her lips brush gently over my neck, "That feels good, right?"

"Yes," I breathed as I tilted my head to give her better access.

I felt the hand she wasn't leaning on slide down my back and grasp at the tender flesh she found until my hips were bucking gently against her and she kissed gently along my jaw. I let it go on for a moment before reaching to bring her hand back to my hip, "That's sort of the point of sex, I mean, besides babies and all that; feeling good."

I tensed slightly as she said that and pulled back, sitting up a bit more as I looked from her to the computer above her, "Then what's the point of that."

"This," she gestured between us, "What we've been doing is just foreplay. It's like a build-up."

I withheld the urge to ask to what because I already knew.

"Do you want to watch?" She asked curiously, tipping her head back to look at the screen.

I looked at the screen curiously, unable to figure out what the video was but I nodded.

I immediately understood why she'd turned to volume down so low; even at the low level the girl in the video's moans seemed to echo throughout the room. I sort of worried that Daddy would hear although I realized it was a bit irrational. The man kissed down the woman's body urgently, only kneading the woman's breasts for a short time before he continued his trek. He settled between her legs, gripping her thighs over his shoulder before he began lavishing her apex with attention. I knew I was flushing and my mouth was probably hanging open but I couldn't draw my eyes away if I wanted to, and I wasn't entirely certain I was. I felt a certain warmth; similar to that I felt when Santana kissed me, but not quite the same.

"What is this?" I asked quietly, relaxing back on top of Santana until our bodies were fitted together again.

"Porn," she stated. I hadn't even realized she'd been watching me so intently.

"What?" I finally tore my eyes away from the screen to stare at her in horror.

"I'd sort of assumed you'd figure that out by now," she gave a small smirk but it didn't reach her eyes, instead I saw a curious concern.

"Santana this is…" I worried my lip slightly as my eyes drifted back to the screen, "We shouldn't be watching this."

The man on the screen was now over the woman, lining _himself _up with the girl before plunging in and I couldn't stop myself from biting my lip slightly. Santana stole a few glances at the screen but her attention was on me. "Do you want me to turn it off?"

I hadn't meant to shake my head but I didn't plan on saying otherwise.

"Do you have any questions?" She wondered.

"What, um, what does it feel like?" I glanced down, a bit disgusted as the man pulled out to release himself on the woman's stomach.

"That's just a porn thing," she explained. I finally drew my attention fully away from the screen as the woman proceeded to kiss down the man's body, looking to her as she thought on my question, "The first time hurts, but after that it's hard to explain. No experience is really the same but for the most part it's being filled. Sometimes it's like something inside of you that you didn't know was missing is there now, and other times it's like excess, you could live without it being there. And there'll be times you never want them out of you, as needy as it sounds, and other times you just want them out, but not more than you want to get off."

The video had ended while she was speaking, and I guess I sort of understood the emptiness she'd described.

"And, oh my god, getting off is like the best thing in the world."

"Better than twizzlers?" I teased, still looking up to the screen, the replay button lingering over the frozen image of the girl licking her lips clean.

She looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding resolutely, "Better than twizzlers."

"Can you describe it?" I asked, reaching to scroll down the list of recommended videos that had come up, although I was a bit repulsed by some of the titles and stopped quickly.

She shook her head, "Not that. That's just something you have to feel for yourself."

"Will you tell me about your first time?" I hadn't meant to ask, it just slipped out.

She looked to the screen and reached up awkwardly, closing the window and erasing the browser history. I couldn't help but wonder how often she did this if she knew to do that. When she finally answered I was surprised, "I think I was fourteen."

"So young?"

She nodded before going on, "Supposed to be in my freshman year of high school. Some friends introduced me to this girl and I really liked her. We kind of started going out."

"Kind of?"

She smiled distantly, "We hung out together. I thought we were going out but she never actually said it. Now are you going to let me finish?"

"By all means," I nodded and got comfortable.

"Well, she was a senior and I was kind of head over heels. I'd hang out at her school with her, under the bleachers when she'd skip her classes. One day we were making out, nothing I hadn't done with her before, when she went for my jeans. I wasn't exactly ready for it but she told me it was fine if I didn't want to but she couldn't keep hanging out with a baby. I was sort of on this kick about being old enough to do whatever I wanted, so I let her."

"That's terrible," I gaped, moving to sit up but she held me down tenderly.

"I got over it. Looking back, I was really young," she looked down to her chest, "I was so tiny back then."

It was kind of hard to think of Santana as being small without thinking back to the graveyard.

"But, we kind of kept it up. I felt so mature and badass. We'd go to her house to hook up, in the back of her friend's cars," she shook her head, her smile growing somewhat regretful, "and her mom sort of figured out what was going on. She used to look at me so sadly, like she knew what her daughter was going to do."

"What did she do?" My voice was so small as I asked.

"Well, it was the fall just after she'd graduated. I was expecting it to be just a normal day, instead I found her packing her bag into some guy's car, um, I think it was a Camaro. When I asked what was going on she said they were leaving for college. She kissed my cheek and got in the car. She gave him this look, just, like she'd never given me. It was kind of like adoration and genuine want." Her voice was soft as she shared her memory, but it wasn't exactly sad.

"Santana, that's horrible, how could you let anyone do that to you?"

"I didn't," she shook her head; "I threw a rock and broke out the back window while they were driving away. Her mom looked a little bit happy while I was leaving."

"You must have really good aim," I smiled at that thought.

She nodded and I was glad this story didn't have the same results. She smiled back, and I couldn't stop myself from leaning down to press my lips to hers.

"Did you mean what you said this morning?" I wondered as I looked down to her.

"I said a lot of things," she pointed out.

I worried my lip, "All I have to do is ask?"

She scanned my face quickly, taking in my genuine curiosity before nodding, "Yeah." She cupped my cheek gently and smiled against my lips before asking quietly, "But it's kind of soon for that, aren't you going to buy me dinner first?"

I laughed past yet another blush and nodded, "Of course."


	15. Is it too late to say I told you so?

"What're you doing?" Santana asked as she watched me.

"Trying something," I hummed playfully as I brushed my fingertips gently up her stomach, pushing her shirt up as I did.

"Trying what, exactly?" She sat up on her elbows.

I pressed my palms gently over her stomach, enjoying the slight fluttering I felt, "Just touching you."

I tried not to blush as she smirked at that, "Is that so?' She sat up fully now, bending her knees so I was pressed closer to her.

"Yes," I answered breathily.

"Well, let me help," I was going to ask how when she started tugging her shirt off.

It was around her wrists before I stopped her, "Wait!"

"Come on Rachel," she whined, and I'd sort of started to love that reaction from her, "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

I worried my lip slightly but nodded. When she tossed her shirt to the side of the bed I watched it but her hand on my cheek gently drew my attention back to her.

"Don't act so shy," I sighed, already hearing the teasing in her voice, "You've checked me out before."

"I have not," I defended weakly.

"Liar," she snickered against my lips.

She let me push her back down until she was lying back once more and I got a better view of her. I was more focused this time, watching my fingers brush down the caramel skin that wasn't covered by a black bra. I traced trails down from her ribs to the subtle flare of her hips. I could see the shudder of her muscles beneath my fingertips, and that's when I noticed, "You've lost some definition."

"What?" She asked, looking a bit confused as she looked up to me.

"Your abs," I pointed to her stomach, "They aren't as toned as I remembered.

"What?" She repeated with more concern. She sat up so quickly she almost hit my head but I sat back on my heels to watch.

She was tightening her abs and I noticed the toning but it still wasn't the same as it was before, "Santana, it's not that bad."

She looked so upset it was kind of hard not to laugh at her, although I tried to stifle it as she glared at me, "This isn't funny."

"If you could see your face it would be," I chuckled before kissing her and trying to ease the anxiety from her features, "Why don't we just start going to the gym again."

"Because Ramona isn't exactly my biggest fan and running into her at the gym wouldn't actually be a fun experience," she sighed, falling back on the bed and still touching her stomach.

I held her hands and moved them over her head as I relaxed on top of her, "Find another gym."

"I'll ask Cosette if she knows a good one," she nodded.

"Are you going to stop acting like a baby now?"

"I'm not acting like a baby," she scowled before I felt her smirk against my lips, "You like my body just as much as I do."

I flushed but let her kiss me.

}{

Cosette knew a few good gyms, but she wasn't convinced that a gym was what Santana needed. She swore up an down that she had a brilliant solution for Santana's problem. That's why, after a trip to the sporting goods store a few days prior, I was sitting tiredly in the front seat of Cosette's car at six in the morning on a Saturday. She was taking us to some stupid nature trail to jog. Santana was curious, I was just upset we had to be up so early. When Cosette finally parked I was surprised to see so many other people already stretching. I followed them out of the car, to the apparent starting point.

"This is so," Santana looked around, "Natural."

"I'm sure you aren't used to it but I promise," Cosette was stretching her arms, "It won't hurt you."

Santana only rolled her eyes before she started stretching. Leaning this way and that as she showed off her still flat stomach. I hadn't thought her sports bra and running shorts were appropriate but as I looked around she fit in almost perfectly.

I followed their lead until we were all as limber as we could be.

"How often do you come here?" Santana asked as we started off jogging.

"I try to come once a week if not more," she explained.

"This early?" I wondered.

She laughed, "You want to get here before the sun comes up; that's when you really start sweating."

Santana seeme pleased with that.

We jogged in relatve silence for a while, and it became increasingly apparent that the other two girls were only held back by me. When Santana wasn't next to me she and Cosette were just ahead, shoving eachother and messing around. When we reached the mile mark they were still playing and I had to rest for a minute. I sat at a small bench to drink from my water bottle while I watched them, knocking eachother down as they continued stretching. After a bit, Santana came and sat next to me.

"You know, you should probably try stretching," she explained, sipping from her own bottle.

"Stretching, or goofing around?" I wondered, squirting her with some water.

She laughed and wiped the water off, although it didn't realy stand out much against the sweat already covering her body, "Stretching so you don't get a cramp."

"You guys ready?" Cosette called from the water fountain.

Santana stood up and held out a hand for me.

We hadn't even reached the second mile when Santana was proven right. She was jogging backwards and talking to Cosette when I fell, clutching my leg. She fell herself before she came to my side. I was still whimpering on the ground as she kneeled beside me, rubbing my leg and asking where it hurt. I didn't answer so much as have to fight back tears as her fingers began kneading my calf.

"Relax, okay?" She muttered, starting the extend my leg.

"I can't, it hurts," I ground out, still clutching my knee.

"Just let her Rachel," Cosette urged.

I nodded.

"I'm going to stretch it out, so, like, breath," she instructed, still rubbing my leg.

I nodded and let go of my leg, trying to breathe as she extended it slowly although it was more of a whimper. I felt her bend my leg even slower and while it hurt, it definitely felt better as I relaxed.

"We should head back, it's getting hot," Santana pointed out.

Cosette nodded, "Alright."

"Can you stand up?" I wasn't certain how to feel about the amount of concern in her voice.

I was hesitant but let them help me up, leaning on Santana when I got nervous about putting my weight on my leg, "I should have listened to you."

She shrugged before looking me over, before turning her back to me, "Get on."

"What?" I asked nervously.

"It's two miles," Cosette mentioned, although I wasn't sure if she was telling me or Santana.

"I can't carry you that far in my arms," she explained. "Help her up Cosette," she looked over her shoulder to tell the girl.

I was surprised as Cosette braced me, helping me to climb on Santana's back. I slid my legs around her hips and my arms loosely around her neck. She gripped my thighs gently and shifted me higher up onto her back. "You don't have to do this; I could just walk."

She scoffed, "That would take all day."

"And you carrying me won't?" I mumbled, resting my chin on her shoulder.

She shook her head, "I'm able-bodied."

I huffed but relaxed against her back.

It really had started getting hotter. The sun came up a bit more and I worried about Santana. She was certainly sweating more and I was consciously trying not to think about the moisture between our own bodies. Cosette offered to carry me a couple of times and I tried to get her to let me walk but she was insistant on carrying me. When we finally got to the car she was out of breath and I felt terrible, she poured what she hadn't finished of her water over her head, and I even had to admit to watching. Cosette threw a towel at her before we got in the car. Santana spent the entire ride, massaging my leg. Even by the time we got dropped off she still insisted on holding me up as we walked inside.

"What happened?" Daddy jumped up as he saw us come in the door.

"Charlie horse," Santana explained, nodding down to me.

"Really?" He asked, coming to take me from Santana to the couch, "You stretched right?"

"Yes," I sighed relaxing on the couch.

Santana went to the kitchen and came back with my water bottle full of ice-water, "You alright?"

"Thank you," I nodded as I took the water bottle.

"Thank you for helping her out Santana," Daddy smiled appreciatively at her.

"It's no problem," she assured, "I'll be in my room if you need help with anything else."

We nodded, and I didn't entirely want her to go but she did.

"So, I guess it's been agreed upon that nature wasn't the best idea," he teased.

I groaned, "Don't say it like that."

He laughed and kissed the side of my head.

I sat with Daddy watching television for awhile. It was about an hour before I felt like I couldn't go on without a shower. I declined Daddy's offer for assistance getting to my room and moved down the hall, very aware of the ache in my leg. I went to my room, gathering some clothes before stopping by the room just across the hall. When I opened the door Santana was on the floor, on her toes and elbows with her body as straight as a board. I heard her breathing sharply for a moment before she looked up.

"Are you alright?" She was already getting up.

I nodded, "I'm fine. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

She looked confused, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you carried me almost two miles in the heat."

She scoffed and gave me a reassuring smile, "I could still go a couple more."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure. I need, a shower though."

"That should definitely help your leg," she pointed out, "Do you need any help?"

I smirked playfully, "If I didn't know any better I'd think you just want to see me naked."

"It's a good thing you know me so well then," she smirked back, brushing her lips over my forehead, "Call me if you need help."

I nodded but moved for a real kiss before heading to the bathroom.

I could still feel an ache in my calf as I turned on the shower and stripped but as soon I felt the water run over my leg some of it dissipated. I was, by no means, quick, in fact, by the time I finally got out of the shower the water had run cold and the mirrors had steamed over. I mussed my wet hair thoroughly with a towel as I went back to Santana's room, finding her doing sit ups this time. I moved to sit on her bed and watch, listening to her deep breaths and the numbers uttered with every other motion. It was a while before she got up, stretching her back slightly before she came and fell on the bed beside me.

"Have fun?" I questioned, lying down next to her.

She hummed the affirmative and nodded, letting her eyes fall closed.

"You're sweaty," I pointed out, reaching to brush my fingertips down her bicep.

"And you probably killed the hot water so deal with it," she grumbled.

I bit my lip and moved closer, urging her to rol on her side, "I don't mind."

She finally looked to me curiously, easing onto her side.

I slid one of my arms over her neck, pressing against her and brushing my lips gently over hers. I felt the warm sweat coating the back of her neck and legs. Normally, I'd be disgusted by being so close to someone so slick with persperation but I could feel my own temperature rising with each shallow breath, nip of lips, swipe of tongue, and brush of fingers. I enjoyed the hand that slid down my back, pulling me impossibly closer until it slid down to draw my leg over her hip. I tangled the fingers of one hand in her hair while letting the others grip her arm gently. I couldn't describe the pleasure feeling her sweaty skin brush gently over my own brought me, I just knew I didn't want it to stop, unfortunately it had to happen.

Santana pulled back, barely. Our bodies were still fitted together and I could still feel her warm breaths rolling over my lips, but that was all. "A cold shower isn't seeming like the worst option anymore."

I tried to pull her back but she resisted, "Don't go." I didn't mean to sound so whiney.

"Technically this is my room so you'd be leaving," she pointed out as her lips pressed to my forehead. I pouted but she couldn't see as I nuzzled her neck, "I need a shower anyway, I'm starting to feel disgusting."

"You aren't," I mumbled into her skin.

She moaned gently and nuzzled my hair, "You say that now." She eased back, rolling onto her back.

I followed slightly, resting my palm on her stomach as I enjoyed the light flutter of her muscles. I felt her eyes on me but I kept my own on the hand trailing of its own accord down to her waist. I licked my lips gently as my fingers ran along the waistband of her shorts.

Tanned fingers laced with my own and my eyes finally flitted up to the dark ones watching me, "Don't start anything you aren't ready to finish."

I gulped nervously but asked, "How do you know I'm not?"

She smirked deviously and slid our laced hands down her body.

I did my best not to pull away as she placed my hand over her apex. "Go ahead," she challenged.

I hadn't realized I was frozen until she said that. My cheeks flushed and my hand burned against her, or maybe she was the one burning, there was a definite warmth beneath my palm.

She must have realized as she laced our fingers once more, bringing my hand up to kiss the back, "Sorry, that was a bad idea."

"You're warm," I mumbled, before I realized I'd even spoken.

She snickered softly an nodded, "I'm sure you are too." She gave a small wink and sat up.

"I'm sorry, I'm not," I shrugged, looking to the edge of the bed, "Ready."

She leaned forward and cupped my cheek, "Don't be. I shouldn't be teasing you like that."

I still wouldn't meet her eyes, "But I'm holding you back. You could be- getting laid. Instead, you're doting on me."

She sighed and moved her fingers to my chin, making me look at her, "If I didn't want to do this I wouldn't." She assured before leaning down to kiss me. "Not that this is the best time to bring this up but, do you know how many people have turned me down, told me no, or made me wait for them?"

I pouted and mumbled weakly, "None."

"Good guess," she shrugged, not looking particularly proud of the feat, "And can you guess how many I would have actually bothered to stick around for if they had?'

"I'd hope at least a few," I shrugged, not feeling anymore thrilled about this.

"None," she sighed, "But I do for you."

"You work for me."

"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be," she pointed out.

"It's true," I huffed, "I'm nothing like the girls you hook up with."

She thought on that silently for a moment and nodded. "You aren't," she breathed as she turned and slipped off of the bed and went to her dresser. She pulled some clothes out and went to the door, "Maybe that's why I'm making an actual effort."

}{

Clean sheets and a shower later and Santana came back to find me sitting on her bed with my knees pulled up to my chest. She was towel-drying her hair too as she checked her phone. She typed out a few things before sitting on the bed. I wasn't sure what to say. I felt bad for putting her through my anxieties when she was trying so hard to be patient with me but I wasn't certain how to apologize for that. Instead, I moved to her side and took the towel to help dry her hair.

"Thank you," I mumbled, mussing the length of her hair with the towel.

"For what?" She ran her fingers through dark locks.

I shrugged and dropped the towel to my lap, ""Making an actual effort.""

She smirked weakly, "Don't thank me for that." She moved further onto the bed and urged me onto my back, "Let me rub your leg."

I let her pull my leg onto her lap and she began kneading the muscle tenderly. I winced at the pressure at first but it obviously relaxed.

"How's it feel?" She asked, focusing on my leg.

"Better than before," I sighed, enjoying her touch.

She nodded before leering at me, "Is it too late to say I told you so?"

}{

Santana had certainly benefitted from our new pastime. Even Daddy began joining us for our jogs, to Dad's amusement. I'd known he was an athlete in his younger days, but I was a bit surprised at how easily he kept up with the Santana and Cosette, joking around with them. Something else I noticed were the worried glances I got the few times Santana wasn't right by my side. She'd wipe the sweat from her eyes and glance to me, and sometimes I'd toy with the idea that she was actually blushing rather than flushed from the heat. She'd bump my shoulder and ask if I was alright, and I'd smile and nod. I definitely made sure to keep up with my stretching.

It hadn't occurred to me that along with exercise entirely, Santana hadn't been boxing either. It didn't really come up until we'd finally reached the four mile mark one week. Santana and Cosette were, once more, joking around. The shorter girl ducking and dodging fake punches while Santana laughed and jabbed. Her posture was so professional even in the playful environment. I wondered if she'd missed it. I continued stretching until Cosette finally took the offensive and flat out tackled Santana, knocking her to the ground. My thoughts grew a bit greener as I finally went to chastise them, Santana brushing the other girl off as she came to me, covered in dirt.

"Done stretching?" She asked, letting her hair down before redoing her bun.

I nodded and offered her my water bottle, "Having fun."

"Of course she is," Cosette agreed, trying to wipe some of the dirt from her body, "I'm here."

"I see that," I assured.

Santana raised an eyebrow as she sipped from my water bottle.

"Have you considered peeing on her leg?" Cosette asked, smirking as she pinched my cheek.

"That's vile," I rolled my eyes and brushing her hand from my face.

"I'm just saying," She moved around Santana, drawing her hand over the girl's hip, "It would get your point across."

I was scowling at her when Daddy came up beside me, "You girls up for another mile or should we start heading back?"

"Think you could handle it Mr. Berry?" Santana asked cheekily, although I could tell she was just trying to change the topic.

"Hey, I was doing this before you were even born," he pointed out. I was glad they'd gotten back to joking around. Santana was still tense and nervous about his reaction to whatever it is we were doing, but things were getting back to normal.

"Well you had to," she nodded, "You couldn't just stand around waiting for the dinosaurs to come get you."

"Very funny," he waved her off.

"You good for another mile, Rach?" She wondered.

I looked to the quickly rising sun, "It's getting hot, maybe we should head back?"

They all mumbled their agreement and we were on our way back.

I leaned tiredly onto Santana's shoulder as we got into the car. Daddy and Cosette were talking about some movie as we drove home. I was doing my best not to act so jealous when she fooled around with Cosette, and especially not now with Daddy so close. When we finally got to the apartment Daddy hurried inside and Santana stopped to talk to Cosette, asking about some store, and planning a trip together. When we went inside and I followed her to the room I couldn't help but push her against the door, mashing our lips together hungrily and gripping her hips. She was surprised at first and allowed me to reign over the kiss as she slid her arms almost uncertainly around my neck.

"Rach," she panted quietly as we finally broke for air, "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," I assured, kissing down her jaw and neck.

She tilted her head, giving me more access, "I know but you don't usually do it like this."

I hummed lightly as I placed wet kisses along her skin, tasting the salty sweat until I finally drew her skin between my teeth, sucking gently.

"Oh," she moaned, clutching the hair that had become tangled in her fingers. "Oh," she repeated, pushing me back gently by my shoulder.

I didn't really let her push me back until I was proud with the red mark on her neck. She wouldn't be able to hide it, but I couldn't think of anyone she'd absolutely be required to keep up appearances for.

"Better than peeing on my leg," she sighed, tilting her head to the side as she ran her fingertips over the tiny mark.

I wrinkled my nose, "Why can't either of you think of a better way of phrasing that."

"Because it's essentially the same thing," she pointed out, moving past me to sit on the bed, "You're staking your claim, and I suppose that's fine, as long as you remember one thing."

"And what's that?" I followed, moving to follow and kiss her again, although a hand on my chest stopped me.

"Nobody owns me," I bit my lip at her smirk.


	16. Are You Happy Now?

**A/N: This is way too long overdue. I'm so sorry it took so long. I've been working on this and some of my other stories. Hopefully I'll have a couple of those up soon. Hope you guys enjoy. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last time. Criticism is always welcome. I'm really sorry if it seems jumpy, I had two different ideas for the chapter and I wanted to bring them together as best as possible.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

"Are you asking me out?"

"Yeah, sort of?"

"On a date?"

A subtle shrug and hopeful nod.

"I don't really think that would be appropriate, I mean…"

A quick shake of the head cut me off, "If you aren't interested it's fine."

"It's not you it's just-"

"At what point did I go from bodyguard to personal assistant?" Santana demanded, jogging up to us with a paper bag in hand.

I smiled at the girl but looked back to Cyrus.

"Are you seeing someone?" He wondered, dejection tinting his features slightly.

"She isn't," I looked to Santana, wide=eyed at her interjection.

Cyrus looked hopeful once more.

"I'll think about it," I smiled politely, pulling Santana away as we made our way to the trailer, "Why did you say that?" I almost hissed.

"He was asking you out, right?" She sounded bored as she asked.

I blushed but nodded.

"Well he probably won't want to hear about us hooking up over lunch," she explained although she rethought, "or he might, but I doubt you'd want to."

"Santana," I chided, flushing as we reached the trailer.

I climbed onto the step, "And you just don't care if I got with him."

"We aren't together, Rach."

I'd known it was true but I still didn't enjoy hearing it out loud.

"Go on a date, have fun."

}{

"So, Rachel we know yours and Cyrus's characters have a lot going on on camera, but how are you two off-screen?"

"We're just two good friends," I answered, a bright smile on my face as I looked to the boy.

"Not for my lack of trying," he offered.

The audience laughed as camera's flashed.

"Does that mean there's still hope for your single fans?" I kept my eyes from flitting off-stage where Santana waited for me; the mask of indifference she'd been wearing all weekend still firmly in place. "Absolutely," I chirped.

I only got a few more questions before we were allowed to leave the small stage. Cameras continued flashing and people chattered around us. I still kept up the smile although I wanted nothing more than to silk in the comfort of my room, except maybe to do so in Santana's. She hadn't quite been avoiding me but we hadn't been alone together since Cyrus asked me out. If I'd had any question about it before, she was making it perfectly clear that we weren't together.

"Lunch," she all but blurted from beside me.

"What?"

"Ask him out to lunch," she explained.

I didn't have to figure out who she was talking about as I saw the boy talking to some people. "How do you even know I want to go out with him?"

"I don't."

"Then why are you making me-"

"I'm not making you do anything," she assured, "I just think you might enjoy going out on an actual date."

I opened my mouth, ready to beg for the answer to the question at the tip of my tongue. Why couldn't I go out with her?

"I'll be there the whole time," a hint of the tenderness I'd heard only a few times before leaked into her voice as if she'd read my thoughts.

I sighed and nodded, raising my arm and pulling up my best smile as I called, "Hey, Cyrus, do you think you would be interested in joining me for lunch?"

}{

Cyrus was everything Santana wasn't. He was sweet, goofy, and unguarded. One of our first conversations over the light lunch at the small restaurant he'd found was about a childhood game gone wrong. Somehow the topic of trees had come up and he began telling me of adventures he shared with his older brother in their tree house. Complete with wild hand gestures, animated voices, and outrageous faces that brought a few curious looks from neighboring patrons of the restaurant, I got a wonderful picture of how his brother had managed to end a wonderful day of play by running into the house shouting that he'd broken the boy and didn't think they'd have enough tape to fix him.

"No," I covered my mouth to contain the hysterics trying to escape, "He didn't!"

"He did," he nodded, chestnut hair bouncing as he did so, "And my mom was panicking but my dad looked sort of like you."

I couldn't contain my laughter any longer.

"It turns out, after the fourth broken limb, my mom had a sense of humor too."

I gape at that, a smile still tugging at my lips, "I couldn't imagine. Were you two on a mission to kill each other?"

He shrugged, finally able to focus on his food again, "Not kill, just maim."

I chuckled again, looking down to my own partially eaten wrap.

"So," he started, as he wiped his mouth, "How long have you known Santana?"

I blushed when he'd brought her up and looked to the girl at the small table a few away from our own. Her eyebrows were knit together as she sipped the coffee cup in front of her. She'd insisted it would be best if she sat away from us, although I wouldn't have minded her being closer. She raised a curious eyebrow as she caught my eye.

"A few months really," I looked back to the intent green eyes on me.

"Really?" His brows raised a bit. "I'd have guessed much longer. You two are attached at the hip."

"I suppose," I blushed and tilted my head nonchalantly.

"How about her and Cosette? Are they together?" He wondered.

"No," I bit the inside of my cheek to restrain myself from snapping out my answer, "They aren't really."

He nodded before sipping his own drink.

It's not like I expected having lunch with Cyrus to be a terrible experience. On set he'd always been so sweet and even a bit funny. He was popular with everybody and as far as looks he was certainly leading man material. I could honestly say, he was a decent kisser from the few scenes that had required that of us, but it just wasn't the same. Boy next door features that almost always had a smile couldn't compare to the dark, almost brooding, looks of Santana and her wicked smirk. Sweet jokes and chivalrous nature didn't stand up to charming wit and indifference. The two were just on opposite ends of a spectrum and I could only see myself on one while everybody else must have seen me on the other.

"This wasn't so bad, was it?" Cyrus asked as his lips pulled up into that crooked smile that I had no doubt made plenty of girls swoon.

I giggled and shook my head, "Not terrible."

"So," unease became a bit more apparent and he slipped his hands into his pockets, "Would it be too much to ask for a second date?"

I blushed and restrained the urge to look into the window of the car Santana had already gotten into. "I suppose not."

He smiled brightly and leaned forward, his cheeks brushing over my cheek before I could pull back. He jumped a bit when the car lock clicked purposefully.

"I guess it's time to go," he chuckled nervously before reaching for the door.

I nodded and got into the car, waving once more as he headed to his own. "Since when are you so impatient?"

"I'm not," she shrugged, already rushing out of the parking space, "I just doubt your fathers would enjoy me letting him pull anything with their little girl."

I couldn't help a bitter laugh from escaping, "That's rich coming from you."

I couldn't fight a shudder as she smirked, it was almost like we were back in Lima and she was still coated in a layer of ice, sugar, and food dye, "I know right? I mean, here I am, the one who's supposed to be keeping creeps off of you and yet I'm on top of you every night."

"I didn't mean it like tha-"

"No, it's true," she waved the hand that was resting on the console, "I mean this works. You can be with pretty boy and I can get back to my job."

"Santana," I started but she just shook her head.

"Really Rachel," her voice softened although it still had that bitter edge, "You can't tell me something like this wasn't bound to happen at some point."

She was right. Maybe it was bound to happen, but that didn't mean I wanted it to happen so soon, or ever.

"He seemed nice," she intoned as if this were just a normal conversation.

"I'm not entirely sure that's my type," I mumbled sullenly, looking out the car window as we both fell into a heavy silence.

}{

Santana made absolutely certain that Daddy knew about my date. She seemed almost content to sit around and urge the man on in his gushing. Neither of them would let me leave the living room so I was forced into the hot seat while Daddy asked everything from his name to when he'd be coming to visit. I flushed slightly under Daddy's gaze but every once in a while I'd get a look past Santana's forced amusement to something less than thrilled with the conversation. She finally took her own leave when Daddy thought it best to call Dad and inform him. It was another half-hour of questioning before I was finally allowed down the hall. I stopped at my door momentarily before turning back to the one I'd become much more well-acquainted with. I worried my lip gently before walking over and easing it open.

"No," her voice was low as she spoke into the phone on her shoulder.

I could hear the low buzz of whoever was on the other line.

"I just don't feel like going," she sighed before adding, "And you aren't coming here."

Her head was turned away from me, so I couldn't see her, but I heard almost genuine amusement in her voice.

"You act like that fixes everything."

More silent buzzing came.

"It doesn't," she chuckled, her voice growing low, "But I doubt that will stop you from trying, will it?"

"No," she repeated without much conviction.

I had to wonder what I was watching; if I should make my presence known, if I was invading something private.

"It's not-" she huffed, "She doesn't- I mean," she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, "We aren't together." It was sounding more and more like she was trying to convince herself every time she said that.

It occurred that she was talking about me.

"It doesn't matter whether I care or not," she mumbled and I clung to her lack of denial. "I know you don't though, so let's get to this."

Her hand slipped up into her hair and she let out a breath I hadn't realized she'd been holding. She let her whole body relax as she bent her knees a bit.

"Sweetie, you know I've never been the type for romancing," her laugh took on a more sultry tone.

I hadn't noticed her hand teasing the hem of her shirt until it was moving beneath the fabric and up to her chest.

"Nothing that can't be gotten rid of," she moaned.

It finally started clicking in my head. I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation but as I felt my cheeks burn I could imagine it well enough. I hadn't meant to take a step back, but there was no fixing it as I hit the door behind me and stumbled.

Santana jumped, dropping the phone from her shoulder as she glared at me.

I was torn between anger and hurt. "Santana-" I began, but it didn't seem like I was meant to get past her name lately.

"No," she snapped, more conviction in her voice than there was just a few moments ago. She picked up the phone, "Actually, come get me."

I got a better idea of who she was talking to, "Is that Cosette? You can't be serious."

"Can't be serious about what Rachel? Taking a break from my job? Or going to get laid?"

I stiffened at that, "What is wrong with you? Ever since Cyrus asked me out you've been acting like-"

"Don't say whore," she challenged.

"A bitch," I glowered.

I was met with her own glare, "Then drop this. If I'm such a bitch then let me go." She slipped her phone into her pocket, "Cyrus likes you, and I bet you can see yourself with him."

I couldn't. I'm sure she meant in some far off future but all I could really see was the person I really wanted to be with leaving. "Would you stay if you were?" I hadn't expected my voice to grow so weak.

"If I were what?" She asked, confusion replacing her anger.

"If you were getting laid."

Her face fell as she caught on. She made a small effort to keep up her façade but she had to shake it off as she came forward. She closed the door behind me and pulled me into her arms. "Shut up."

I wasn't sure how to react to that but I did as told.

"Don't say that," she said almost forcefully, "To me or anyone. You-" she sighed, "Shouldn't have to worry about that."

"Then what's wrong?" I pleaded, "It's like you don't want," me, I wanted to say me, because I wanted so badly for her to want me, "this anymore."

"It's not that," she assured, nuzzling my hair carefully. "I can't be him." I was going to tell her that Cyrus wasn't who I wanted when she went on, "I'm not overly sweet or an open book. I can't take you on stupid dates or even act like I'm not some oversexed angst ridden psycho."

"You aren't a psycho," I pointed out.

She chuckled over me before her voice became small, like she was admitting this to herself as well, "Just try doing this normally. Let Leroy meet him and Hiram actually like him, go on dates, try to hide from paparazzi, and enjoy yourself."

I wanted to tell her I'd much rather do all of that with her. Daddy already loved her and Dad could learn to deal with her. I could see myself sitting across from her at some hole in the wall coffee shop where she had a snide comment for everything to barista had to say. I might even have to buy the magazines just to see that almost perpetual scowl on the covers. I could enjoy myself with her.

I didn't get to tell her that as her phone rang from the bed. She moved past me to grab it, checking quickly. "Just try," she sighed, kissing my forehead and going to the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

}{

Coffee. After going to bed, lonely and dejected, I'm not certain what I expected to wake up to, but coffee was more pleasant than anything I could have thought of. I don't know why I was surprised to see Daddy in the kitchen with Santana, speaking as if nothing had ever changed between any of us. Neither of them looked up as I leaned against the entrance and watched them for a moment. I couldn't imagine Cyrus in her place, chatting so easily with Daddy, yes he could probably handle himself fine but it wouldn't be the same.

"Nobody thought it might be a good idea to wake me up?" I wondered, trying to sound irritated. I couldn't keep from letting my eyes roam over her, searching for any difference.

"We figured you could use the rest," Daddy assured over his cup of coffee.

"You have the day off," Santana reminded, pushing another cup towards me as she shook hers to assure she was out.

It had slipped my mind but I took the cup, letting the small gesture warm me as I sipped the drink slowly.

"So, do you two have anything planned for the day?" Daddy wondered. "Maybe seeing your friend, what was his name?"

"Cyrus," Santana supplied, still trying to drain the last few drops from her cup.

"No," I blushed and drew my eyes away from the girl, "I didn't plan on seeing him today."

"You could," Daddy urged.

"Actually," Santana started, finally setting her cup down and pushing it away, "I was thinking I could take Rachel out." She stood up slightly and pulled out a rolled up booklet from her back pocket to hold out to me, "She'll be eighteen soon enough and it might be nice for her to know how to drive."

I took the booklet and read California Driver's Handbook across the front. I looked back to her wide-eyed.

Daddy seemed a bit unnerved but peaked at the booklet as well. "I suppose," he started looking uncertain, "As long as you were watching her it'd be fine."

"Really?" I almost yelped in excitement as I looked between them.

"Let's just hold off on telling Dad," he sighed, "The keys should be in the living room."

"Go get dressed," Santana urged.

I had no arguments as I rushed to get ready.

}{

According to my handbook, the first things I was supposed to do when I got in the car were to put on my seatbelt, adjust the seat, and check the mirrors. According to Santana, I was just supposed to "start the damn thing already." She leaned into the open door to explain everything to me. The pedals, the turning signals, how to move the seat and steering wheel, and of course how to shift gears. When she seemed sure that I'd be able to handle it she walked around the front of the car which my handbook stated you're never supposed to do while the car is on.

"Put your foot on the break, put it on drive, the first D," she instructed, pointing to the display behind the steering wheel. As I followed her instructions I she went on, "Now, take your foot off of the brake but don't touch the gas yet."

I nodded and worried my lip slightly when the car began rolling. The parking lot she'd found was empty with nothing to run into, "Is this alright?"

"Mhum," she leaned back in her seat, easing it back comfortably.

"What do I do now?" I asked, flitting my eyes to the side only for a second to see her easing her seat back.

"I don't know, try a couple of donuts, maybe some figure eights and wake me up when you're ready for drifting," she punctuated it with a yawn.

"Did you get any sleep?" the car grew obnoxiously silent as I asked.

Her eyes were open when I chanced another glance.

"I mean, I suppose if Cosette is as restless in bed as she seems to be elsewhere you might not have gotten much rest. She has seemed especially enthralled with you lately and I'm sure she's had plenty of time to make up for as far as her affections. Really, if you'd prefer to just go home and rest I'd be fine, I could study up on my handboo-"

"Rachel stop," she sighed.

"Which one was it again?" I looked down to the pedals.

"No, Rachel-" she leaned over, "Not the car, well, yeah. Foot on the big one." She leaned over, lifting her seat again to make sure I had it under control.

When I stopped the car and put it in park I still didn't let go of the wheel.

Her hands were in her lap as she clenched them together, twisting her fingers gently, "I'm trying to do this for you, okay? I feel bad enough as is, can you just let me do this?"

"Do what?" I couldn't keep the hurt from my voice.

"Move on," she finally stated.

"W-what?"

"Move on from you, I can't be with you Rachel and you can't be with me so it's probably just best if we move on." She didn't even bother looking at me.

I had nothing else to say. My mind was blank. Literally nothing but a default, "Okay."

}{

She wasn't allowed to make me miss her. When she sat in the open doorway of Cyrus's she didn't get to make me feel guilty. It wasn't okay for her to make me feel jealous when Cosette wrapped her arms around her neck from behind and whispered lewd things that always made her smile, even just for a moment. Kissing Cyrus hesitantly at the end of each work day shouldn't have made me feel like I was betraying her. It wasn't fair that Santana was winning a game she wasn't even playing.

Dinner was her idea. Of course, since we hadn't been speaking much, she'd brought it up to Daddy. He was too excited when the night finally came and Cyrus was at our door in a neat button up shirt and his hair was much tidier than he liked it. At the same time, Santana was on her way out, her hair drawn up in the messy bun she usually only wore when working. She said her polite goodbyes before leaving. I don't think Daddy or Cyrus really noticed me watching her go.

It's no surprise to say Daddy liked Cyrus. They joked easily although it still seemed a bit strained. Even as polite as Cyrus was it seemed a bit odd. Daddy was, of course, wonderful even if he was somewhat reserved. The evening ended easily. Even with Santana coming home before it was over. I couldn't help but notice the coffee cup in her hand and the cigar behind her ear. She had to pass Cyrus and I in the unused game room. I totally dropped the façade of caring about how to play pool as she slipped out onto the balcony. After a few more minutes of my distraction he took it as his cue to leave. Daddy and I walked him to the door.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Cyrus," Daddy smiled.

"You too, sir," Daddy made no move to correct the boy, "It was wonderful to bring up one of the men who helped to bring up such a wonderful girl."

I blushed but smiled, "Thank you for coming Cyrus."

"Anytime Rachel," he smiled, beginning to lean down for a kiss but stopping as he remembered Daddy was there.

I spared him a hug and shut the door behind him.

"He's nice," Daddy began and I was surprised when he went on, "But he's sort of plain."

I wasn't entirely sure how to feel about Daddy's statement. I thought he'd love the boy and gush just as he had before. Somehow I'd come to expect them to almost be friendly. "What do you mean?" I finally voiced.

"Nothing sweetie," he kissed my forehead easily and smiled, "I'm just glad you're happy."

Happy wasn't the word I would have used but I gave Daddy a smile as he took to his own room.

I had to wonder if Santana was in the same predicament as I was. That curiosity was only part of what led me back to the game room. I could see her past the partially opened blinds, leaning her chair back two legs with her feet kicked up on the railing. The burning stick between her lips told me I was right to think something was wrong. I slipped outside and closed the blinds behind me. As I moved to stand beside Santana she gave no response to my presence, at least, not until I reached out to take her cigar. She looked up to me through dark lenses.

"Those are bad for you?" her voice was level as if she were purposely keeping her voice monotone.

"So, I've heard," I tried to match her tone as I brought the cigar to my lops.

She waited until I'd taken a couple of drags and struggled to hold back my coughs before letting a hint of amusement coat her features, "Rough night?"

"Not quite what I'd expected," I shrugged, letting my hand with the cigar fall to my side.

"Pool doesn't seem like your game," she nodded before pulling off her glasses.

That was the first time I'd seen the dark rings beneath her eyes.

I planned to come back with a comment of my own but I could only gape at the tired eyes that faced mine.

She noticed my staring and started to say something while lifting her sunglasses but I dropped the cigar as I stopped her.

I urged her hand down before bringing mine up to her cheeks. She only restrained for so long before I got her to look up at me.

Dark brows knit over darker eyes but she didn't say anything yet.

"Have you," I began nervously and cleared my throat, uncomfortable with her possible answer, "Have you been sleeping?"

I was almost upset by smirk that crossed her lips but something wouldn't let me be. I suppose it was her eyes, they weren't the eyes of someone who chose to forego sleep.

"Santana," I called, curling my fingers gently along her jaw.

She tensed slightly at the gesture but sighed, "Not for lack of trying."

I felt as if a weight that had been on my chest was lifted at that, although not entirely. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," she rolled her eyes and reached up to move my hands."

"I'm serious," I watched my hands in hers before meeting her eyes again, "You don't even look like you should be awake."

"I shouldn't," she laughed and picked up the coffee cup from the floor beside her chair, "Coffee and cigars can only take you so far."

I didn't think it was nearly as funny as she did. "Santana, that's"

"Not good for me," she supplied.

"Insane," I corrected bitterly and took the cup away as she took it to her lips. "When's the last time you slept?"

She shrugged impartially and watched the cup, "A couple of days ago?"

I ground my teeth but resisted the urge to scold her, opting instead to pull her up and after me. I expected more resistance but she followed easily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned when we reached her room.

I gave no answer before urging her to sit on the bed.

"Rachel-"

"Lay down," I cut her off and pressed her shoulder until she at least pulled her legs up onto the bed.

"I don't need you taking care of me," she huffed and followed with a yawn.

"Obviously not," I scoffed.

She glared thoroughly at me but it only lasted a moment before melting into something softer, almost hopeful.

I knew what I wanted but I wanted her to ask.

Her lips formed a tight line, her eyebrows knit in agitation, and I almost expected her to blow me off. She moved to the other side of the small bed on her side.

A part of me wanted to ignore the unspoken invitation but a bigger part, a part that couldn't quite be denied, climbed into the bed and relaxed into the familiarity.

}{

It had happened on more than one occasion but I'd never been so uncertain how to feel about it. The arm thrown easily over my waist and the dark eyes watching me made my lips twitch with the urge to smile and at the same time to fall into a scowl. Santana was hard to read as she refused to look away. My cheeks burned harshly but I didn't look away either. I hadn't realized how tired Santana really was but now that she'd rested she seemed more focused. She made the first move, pulling her arm back. I couldn't hide the urgency in my actions as I grabbed her hand as she rested it between us. Slowly I crept my hand up her arm, past her bicep, over her shoulder and finally behind her neck.

"Rachel," she warned but made no effort to pull back again.

It was soft and chaste but nowhere near innocent; just an easy brush of lips before our lips parted while our foreheads met and our eyes connected.

"Rachel," her voice was softer this time, almost pleading.

"Shut up," I breathed, trying again as I pressed my lips to hers. This kiss was not as innocent; my lips moved over hers momentarily before I sought entrance with my tongue. She didn't give or deny just accepted it as I tasted her for the first time in weeks. It was a slow motion as she replaced her arm over me and I moved farther into the touch. I only pulled back when my lungs burned and only just enough that we could breath.

She didn't say anything, just kept her eyes on mine.

I couldn't think of anything either.

"You have to go to work," she finally settled on.

The uncertainty that had overtaken me with Santana was easily replaced with dread.

}{

The drive was almost painfully silent. Nobody touched the radio and we certainly didn't speak. I had enough on my mind and the silence wasn't helpful. What really made it worse was seeing Cyrus parked next to our usual spot. He was leaning up against his car with two coffee cups in hand and grinning as we pulled in. Santana made no obvious move to get out of the car but I sort of had to, and when Cyrus came and kisse me my stomach dropped.

"Morning," he greeted, slipping the coffee into my hand. "I know you don't use cream but I brought sugar." He pulled the packets from his pocket.

"Th-thank you Cyrus," I forced a smile as I looked down to the coffee.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Just a little bit cold," it wasn't totally a lie; it had been getting colder.

"I have an extra coat in my car," he was already reaching for his pocket again.

"It's fine," I assured just as Santana finally got out of the car, "I think I have one in my trailer. I'll go get it and see you on set."

"Alright," he sounded worried but didn't press me.

The coffee was hot, burning my palm the entire way to the trailer but I didn't do anything about it. I couldn't even think to drink it. There was no jacket in the trailer, and Santana knew that. Almost half way there she shrugged off the dark coat she'd had over her long-sleeved shirt. I didn't argue as I pulled it on, not bothering to hide it as I smelled the collar, enjoying the familiar scent. When we got to the trailer I took the couch quickly, but watched as Santana stood by the door as if she wouldn't have normally been laid out on the couch.

"We should-"

"Don't say talk," she rumbled.

"San-"

"I brought sugar," Cosette declared as she came in excitedly. She had a large coffee cup in hand. "Did somebody die?" She looked between us, realizing how tense we were.

"Give me," Santana, well, I couldn't say greeted, and held her hand out for the coffee.

Cosette went over and handed her the cup. After several deep pulls she brought her hands down to roll it between her certainly cold hands. It was almost disgusting to watch as Cosette reached down to run her finger along Santana's lip before licking the excess off.

"Santana," I started, my voice low as I glared at the pair, "Can we talk now?"

Her eyes darkened a bit as she looked me over, "Rachel, now isn't the time."

"Oh, you mean when you're girlfriends in here?" I challenged. "We can't talk about us kissing with her here?"

Cosette smirked maliciously, "Or when your boyfriend could be just outside the door."

I flushed with anger, and resisted the urge to check, "I don't care? She's the one that made me go out with him."

"I didn't make-"

"You didn't make me," I turned away in frustration, "But it's not like you weren't pushing me."

"What was I supposed to do Rachel? Let you keep up with this idea that we can be together? Cyrus is a decent guy. You two can be together. Why can't you just be with him?" She started off harshly but her voice became almost pleading.

I stared blankly at her for a moment, "Because you're much better than decent, and I want to be with you."

The silence that fell over the trailer was deafening. I couldn't look at either of them as I played with the sleeves of Santana's coat. I stopped when I realized what I was doing and began to slip the coat off.

"Well, as lovely as this was, I'm going to the set," Cosette lost the devious tone that almost always filled her voice as she got up to leave, "Let me know when you two have worked this out." I finally looked up to watch her go, she stopped and looked at me with less than thrilled eyes, "This game you two play isn't as fun from my side of the board."

I watched her go before staring blankly at the door.

"So, what? You've just been dating Cyrus because you can't have me?" Her voice was vacant.

I had no response to that.

"Are we just going to go home and do this behind his back or are you going to let him know you're tossing him aside?"

She didn't seem to be expecting a reply.

"Because that's what's got to happen," she stood up, coming to me as she pushed the jacket back into my hands.

}{

Cyrus knew something was wrong. On camera I was perfect, as good as I'd ever been. Off-camera was something else entirely. I did my best to avoid him, but that was hard, and even when I managed I had to deal with not only Santana's but Cosette's disapproving looks. Really, there was something deeper in Cosette's eyes; an understanding. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of comfort she'd been providing Santana, because it wasn't exactly the kind I'd originally thought it to be. Still, I eventually had to speak to Cyrus.

"Rach," he called as we finally got to leave the set for the day.

"Cyrus," I couldn't quite pull up the smile as Santana walked a bit farther ahead.

"Is everything okay? You've seemed kind of off today," he was genuinely worried as he ruffled his hair.

I shrugged and looked to Santana, already leaning against the car. Her look was unwavering.

"Cyrus, I have to tell you something," I didn't my best not to wince at such a cliché beginning.

"Oh," worry spread across his face.

"I'm so, so sorry," I sighed, "but-"

"Just stop Rach, it's fine, I don't need some crappy line," he began to walk past me.

"Cyrus no," I started, grabbing his coat sleeve to stop him, "It's not a line. It's somebody else."

His glare almost felt like it could have burned me.

"I should have never agreed to go out with you," I worried my lip before continuing, "It wasn't fair for me to do that when I still have feelings for somebody else. You're so sweet, and charming, and absolutely wonderful but-"

"I get it," he sighed, and while he wasn't exactly chipper, his anger dissipated.

"I'm sorry," I breathed.

He shook his head, "Don't be."

I didn't get the chance to say anything else as he walked away from me. It was almost unbelievable to see him nod to Santana as he passed getting to his own car. He pulled out quickly and almost peeled out of the parking lot.

When he was gone I finally made my own way back to the car. "Are you happy now?" I asked as we got in.

She started the engine, "Are you?"

}{

"Get your computer," Santana said after we'd greeted Daddy and got on our way down the hall.

"For what?" I wondered.

She just walked into her own room.

I grabbed the computer and took it into her room, finding her on the bed.

"Come here, we'll do some of your work," she patted the bed next to her.

I opened my mouth to say something but I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead I just nodded and went to sit beside Santana, glad to get back to normal, even if it would have to be disrupted again soon.


	17. If You Wanted Custody Of Me

**A/N: Thanks to everybody who's read and reviewed. Especially if you've stuck around after so long. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hope you guys enjoy.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.**

The laptop rested in it's bag on the floor, cold from disuse. The lights had long since been shut off. The only sounds in the room, the entire apartment, were our mingling breaths and the thoughts that plagued us. I wouldn't have been surprised if she heard my nerves as clearly as I heard her reservation. It would be hard not to as close as we were fitted together. My back was pressed firmly to her chest while one arm rested over my hip; it's connected hand had found a placed just below my navel, and though I made no move to change that my mind kept finding its way back to the warm fingers resting so earnestly above the waistband of my shorts. Keeping my mind from wandering only grew harder as Santana's thumb began a slow motion. She interrupted the silence first.

"Did you mean it?" It was barely above a whisper. It was a task to convince myself I'd even heard it, especially the pleading edge.

I didn't quite understand, "Mean what?" I chanced, trying to keep my voice just as low.

"Do you," she started, the pleading more evident, and moved her hand to my hip. I almost shivered as she rolled away from me, exposing my back to the cool air. She started again, "Do you want to be with me?"

The silence that fell was heavier this time, weighing me to my spot and her to lay farther back. For a time, I was certain she was holding her breath, but I knew she wasn't asleep when she moved again, sitting up this time. I nodded. "Yes."

I don't know how long our silence lasted but I'd allowed doubt to seep into both of our minds.

She didn't lie back down, "Why?"

"What?" I finally moved, craning my head and leaning back to see her.

"Why?" She asked again. I could only make out her figure in the dark; a black silhouette against the unlit room, "If it isn't for sex," I saw the way her head dropped back, "And it isn't to brag, why would you want me?"

"Santana," I had no idea, what to say to that.

She didn't let me think as her head turned. I felt her eyes on me as if she could see me clearly past the darkness. "I'm eighteen different kinds of fucked up Rachel. What could you possible want to do with me?"

"Don't say that." It was my turn to sit up, still a bit uncertain in the dark. "You're not fucked up Santana."

Her laughter was bitter as it shook the bed.

"I mean it," my voice dropped, "You've been through a lot, certainly far more than most people our age, but you're not fucked up. You're a lot sweeter than you'd probably be willing to admit, you're probably some sort of genius, and you're my friend."

"That was the worst argument I've ever heard," she chuckled, and I had to wonder if her voice actually sounded thicker.

I worried my lip slightly, uncertain of what to do next. Typically Santana was the one waiting on me. Usually, she was the more experienced in, well, everything. I didn't think either of us really knew what to do.

Still, she moved first, turning back onto the bed. I moved to lay down, facing Santana as she moved closer.

"We should still talk about everything else," I mumbled softly into the darkness. I could tell Santana was grimacing as I reminded, "Everyone else."

I heard a wet noise, a moist tongue running smoothly over dry lips before she sighed, "We will."

"But not now?" I asked.

Another sigh before we fell into a short silence.

"San."

"Tomorrow," she assured, "Can we talk tomorrow?"

I nodded wordlessly.

}{

I really should have grown used to the dejection I felt at waking up alone. I held the pillow beneath my head tightly, taking in the familiar scent, except, it was far stronger than on my own pillows. It hit me like a ton of bricks about then, I'd fallen asleep in Santana's bed. She'd let me. Yesterday came back quickly as I left the room, only barely registering that I was in yesterday's clothes. I made my way to the front of the apartment, sure to check the game room and bathroom before I actually got to the kitchen. I couldn't hide my elation at the familiar scene of Santana and Daddy sitting at the counter, nursing their own bowls of oatmeal and cups of coffee of their respective phone and laptop.

"Good morning," I smiled, going to the cupboard to get my own bowl.

"Morning sweetie," Daddy greeted, "You're still in yesterday's clothes. Yesterday must have been pretty hectic if you dropped like that."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly, "It was, but I just have to get through this week and then we're getting a few weeks off for the holidays."

Daddy nodded past his coffee, rushing to swallow, "Did I tell you, Dad's coming out? He's finally coming to see the place."

"Really?" I had to refrain from bouncing, "He's coming out?"

"Next week."

"Oh my," I set the bowl down to hug Daddy.

He kissed my forehead and smiled before looking to the girl across from us, "How about you Santana, would you be interested in going home to see your uncle for the holidays?"

"Don't think Mr. Berry would be too thrilled with that," she scoffed before taking a sip of her coffee.

Daddy laughed, "He's really not a bad guy. We'd hardly keep you from seeing your family."

She shook her head, "It's fine, really, my uncle's probably living it up, not having to keep track of me. He has his own work and I should be focused on my own as well."

"If you're sure, we're more than glad to have you here for the festivities," he assured, beaming, "Right Rach?"

"Of course," I beamed, "We can sit and watch Christmas specials."

"You're Jewish," she pointed at me skeptically.

"I've been exposed to both of my fathers' faiths, it just happens that Dad was a bit more devoted to his than Daddy," I explained.

"You make me sound worse than I am," Daddy teased.

"Yes, _I _make you sound worse," I assured, kissing his head before moving to sit beside Santana.

"You should probably hurry up if you want to shower and dry off before we leave, it's cold out and I doubt anybody would want you getting sick," Santana assured.

"Wear coats, both of you," Daddy reminded before getting up, "I'm going to go call Dad and tell him you're both very excited." He gave a quick wink to Santana before kissing my head. He dropped his dishes in the sink and left.

"We can go get a tree," I was almost giddy with excitement, "A real tree. We only have a fake one at home but it would probably be best to get a real one."

"My Papi always got a real tree when I was little," she mentioned.

I watched her silently as she finished her coffee; maybe hoping for more or some sort of explanation. Instead, all I got was, "You should probably hurry, unless you want to go to work rocking yesterdays musk."

I blushed and nodded, finishing my bowl before heading to my own room, enjoying this familiarity.

}{

**Broadway Babe and Hollywood Hottie!** Cosette dropped the magazine onto the small coffee table in front of me on the couch. Normally, I wasn't exactly interested in them, but it was hard to ignore my own picture on the cover. Technically, Cyrus and I were on the cover, and I could even make out Santana off to the side. I was unnerved as I read the first page. It mentioned one of our recent dates. I didn't even bother opening it before Santana took it from my hands and scanned it, slipping it into her back pocket before looking to Cosette angrily.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" She demanded.

"I just thought the princess might like to see what the rest of the world is saying about her," she sneered.

"Well you thought wrong." I watched from the couch as Santana moved to face the girl, standing toe to toe as the silent war waged.

I could almost feel the rage radiating off of Santana, but all Cosette had to show was amusement.

"She's right," I assured, standing up, "I should have expected this. Thank you for grabbing this, do you mind if we keep it?"

Both girls looked at me with surprise before their other emotions set in.

Cosette finally seemed upset.

"Rachel," Santana called, "Don't just-"

"Really," I stopped her before turning back to the other girl, "Cosette, I'm sorry."

I don't think I'd ever actually seen the girl angry before. I found myself grateful when I realized the emotion began slipping from her face, although I only caught a glance before she huffed and turned away, "Whatever." She slipped out of the trailer without another word to either of us.

"What was that?" Santana questioned, looking at me sternly.

"Cosette and Cyrus got the short end of the stick," I reminded her, "The least we could do is try to act civil."

Her expression softened but she didn't say anything.

"I don't want them to hate me," I added quietly.

That seemed to break her. "Rach," she called, moving to pull me in her arms, "If they didn't hate you before, I'm sure they don't now." Lips brushed easily over my temple as she sighed, "They're just hurt."

I nodded and leaned into her touch.

"Just give it time."

}{

They hated me. While Cyrus was far too sweet to outwardly show it, I could tell. During scenes he was perfect, as usual, but as soon as we finished shooting one rather than hanging around to talk to me, he'd find just about anybody else. Even when I tried talking to him, he'd excuse himself to go talk to anybody else. Cosette, was a bit more obvious in her avoidance. Unless she was required on set she stayed in the trailer. Both went out for lunch while Santana found a nearby truck with at least a salad. Our own lunch was spent in silence before I had to get back to work.

The rest of the week was spent in a very similar fashion. Not much improvement happened. The tabloids caught on pretty quickly that mine and Cyrus's flame had fizzled out. Some paparazzi had started showing up at the studio although they weren't quite allowed inside. A couple tried following us home but Santana proved it fairly easy to lose them, although I hadn't even noticed the cars following us. By Thursday Cyrus had grown especially tired. He was hounded with horrible questions as if the break up were his fault, but he still didn't tell them anything about what I'd said. Finally, on Friday I got the chance to talk to him though.

"Seriously guys, can I just get to my car? It's the holidays," Cyrus sighed.

"Just talk to us about Rachel," one pleaded while camera's flashed at random.

"Did she cheat on you?" One demanded. "Did you cheat on her," another countered.

The boy fidgeted but shook his head, "Could you ask about anything else?"

"Was it a messy break up? Did you argue, did you fight?" The questions only continued.

"Pretty boy," Santana finally called as we grew closer.

That only excited the mob as they began voicing questions for me.

"Rachel, who did you cheat on Cyrus with?" "Did he catch you with the other guy?" "Did he know you were with someone else?"

It never ceased to shock me how invasive these people were. I felt the color drain from my face as I fell back behind Santana.

"Cyrus come here," Santana didn't hesitate to grab the boy and pull him behind her as well. She turned to a few of the people shouting out questions and pulled off her sunglasses, blinking a couple of times before assuring, "You and your cameras mean nothing. Keep that in mind and don't touch the goods."

Cyrus and I were a bit surprised as she led the way through the dense group. The first few photographers were actually surprised when Santana bumped them out of her way. I'm not sure what I actually expected but seeing Santana hip checking people was pretty hilarious. When I looked up Cyrus even had a small smile on. Santana led us to the car easily although the photographers still followed us, they were just more wary of the raven haired girl. When we got to the car I was almost disappointed to part ways but since Cyrus had parked farther away than usual Santana offered, rather, demanded to drive him to his car. At first it was rather awkward.

"I hate them," Santana mentioned, driving around the lot.

"Turn here," Cyrus nodded, "I know, I mean, I get that they've got to work too, but wow."

"I don't know how you deal with it."

"We can't all go around throwing people out of the way," Cyrus reminded.

Santana chuckled.

Maybe it was only awkward for me.

When we pulled up behind the familiar I gnawed my bottom lip slightly. We'd come to a stop when I finally turned in my seat. "Cyrus, can we just talk?"

Any hint of a smile faded fast, and although he kept his hand on the handle he didn't open it.

"I just wanted to say that I didn't mean to hurt you," I started, wishing I had actuallyplanned more, "But I still understand why you'd be mad. I wasn't fair to you, and I've just gotten us in this mess."

He remained silent.

"And, not now, but maybe we could still be friends eventually," my voice fell a bit as I gripped the seat and console. "I'm just not used to you," I paused, looking down as I thought, "not being you."

"Rachel," he started, his voice tense, "That doesn't always work. Most people don't just break up and be friends. Especially when you tell them you have feelings for someone else."

I nodded wordlessly, trying to keep my face blank.

"But I get it," he confided, "I've been a dick."

I was surprised at that but let him continue.

"We work together, so I should try to be civil."

I gave another nod, although, this time I was having a bit harder of a time keeping my face neutral.

"But yeah, maybe can be friends," he offered a weak smile, "Eventually."

I smiled, even as he opened the door, ready to get out.

"Don't pay any attention to me, but," Santana began, stopping the boy, "I'd have been down if you wanted custody of me."

Cyrus laughed pretty loudly at that, "Happy holidays guys."

"See," Santana started as we drove off of the lot, "I told you they don't hate you. Maybe they aren't your biggest fans at the moment, but they don't hate you."

I could only gape at her.

}{

"We should go out," I pointed out as I sat at the kitchen counter.

"Why would we do that?" Santana wondered distractedly.

I fiddled with the salt shaker before me, "To eat."

"I can cook," she reminded, "Or we could order in."

"Or we could go out," I stood up and went to stand beside her, "We've lived here for months and we haven't gone anywhere."

"We've gone plenty of places," she assured, finally closing the cabinet and turning to me.

"Like?" I crossed my arms.

"That café, the beach, that trail, Cosette's," she counted off places, not even sounding very convinced herself as she refused to look at me.

"Please, we can go anywhere you want," I quickly remembered to add, "Within reason," when she raised an eyebrow at me.

It was a moment before she shook her head, "Go ask Leroy."

She didn't seem to be expecting it when I grinned and brushed my lips over hers before leaving the kitchen to head down the hall. Daddy's door was open as he sat at his disk, his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, and a screensaver flashing over the obviously forgotten computer.

"I love you too, I can't wait to see you," he muttered into the phone. "Rachel's excited too. She's trying to talk Santana into getting a real tree.

I was certain I could have guessed Dad's response.

"Be nice Hiram," Daddy scolded, "Rachel's never had a friend like her before, and she's never been able to go out like this without one of us before. Give them both some credit. She keeps her out of trouble."

Daddy nodded and I could almost see him rolling his eyes, even if I couldn't see his face.

"Hiram, I've never seen Rachel this happy," he reminded, "Listen, I love you, I'll tell Rachel you said hi. Don't forget to pack the decorations."

I shuffled my feet awkwardly before knocking at the doorframe, "Daddy."

"Oh, sweetie," he stood up, turning the chair quickly, "Did you girls decide on something?"

"I was wondering if Santana and I could go out for dinner? We'd be glad to bring you something back?" I grinned, trying not to dwell on the phone call.

"Of course," he beamed, "You two have fun, let me know what you find."

"Alright, should we be home at a specific time?"

He pursed his lips in thought before looking to the phone. When he looked back to me he shrugged, "I'll trust your judgement."

I smiled and nodded, moving in to hug him, "Alright Daddy."

"Dad said hi," he informed, "You should probably call him and let him know you're alive. I don't think he believes me."

"I will," I laughed before heading to my room. I grabbed my jacket and shoes and went to find Santana ready to go.

"Where's Leroy?" Santana wondered.

"It's just us."

She glared at me for a moment before sighing.

}{

"So, you're plan is for us to literally just drive around until we find something that catches your eye?"

I nodded fervently.

"I thought I got to pick," Santana reminded.

"Of course I'll take your opinion into consideration, but-" the wheels screeched beneath us as we came to a sudden stop. I gripped the seatbelt at my chest, looking around for some sign of an accident, but stopped as I saw Santana's grin. "Santana, that's not funny!"

"I thought it was hilarious," she reminded, picking up the pace, "But I'll take your opinion into consideration."

I glared darkly at her as she continued driving.

Our drive continued for quite some time. Santana made sure to take the most scenic route, passing different stores and restaurants until we finally reached the beach. Santana parked, filling the meter for quite some time as we got out to walk. I shivered in the cold night air but let Santana lead me past more restaurants and storefronts. Santana pointed out plenty of different places but none exactly interested me. A karaoke bar seemed to have plenty of patrons, spilling out onto the sidewalk as we passed. Walking through the large crowd, I felt fingers brush lightly over my palm before I let Santana's fingers link with mine. I blushed but did my best not to focus on the gesture, but it grew harder when we stopped.

Santana turned to me and grabbed my other hand, bringing them up between them and blew a gust of warm air onto them. "Hurry up," she groaned, still rubbing her hands over mine, "It's fucking freezing."

"Um," I really hadn't even realized how cold I felt Santana's over mine. Her words registered and I looked around quickly, spotting a small place between a bar and a currently closed gift shop, "How about here?"

"Gyros," she asked, looking to the neon sign. She nodded before lowering our hands so that only our linked fingers remained between us. "Let's see if they cater to you rabbit people."

Normally, I would have huffed and chastised her, instead I was busy sneaking glances at our hands as we went inside.

We left with our food in hand and a bag for Daddy. We crossed the street and headed back to the car, sitting on the small border that split the sidewalk from the sandy beach. I dug my heels into the sand, wishing I could feel it, although it was far too cold to even consider taking my shoes off. Santana and I talked idly and joked around for a bit. Mostly she teased me about mine not being a real gyro. Even when she took a bite and seemed pleasantly surprised. When we finished we still sat, staring at the dark moonlit water and listening to the music, although I use the term loosely, coming from the karaoke bar.

"Do," I began nervously, realizing the night was coming closer and closer to an end, "Do you think we could consider this a date?"

Santana didn't reply immediately. I did my best not to look at her as my blush grew deeper with each passing second. I looked down at my shoes in the sand instead. Finally, when I was considering just getting up and going to the car I saw a subtle motion, "If that's what you want to call it."

I turned to look at her, unsure of what I was looking for. I was greeted with a controlled face.

I worried my lip slightly and nodded.

The silence that engulfed us was anything but uncomfortable but I still appreciated it when Santana broke it. The sound was barely audible, especially with the ruckus from the bar, but I still heard it. I couldn't stop a smile at the familiar song on her breath.

"What is that?" I wondered.

"She's been living in her uptown world."

I shoved her lightly but still smiled, "From what I understand, you think you're cute."

"I bet she's never had a backstreet guy."

"You aren't."

"I bet her daddy never told her why."

I got up, grabbing our trash and Daddy's food.

"I'm gonna try for an uptown girl."

"Santana!"

"And just for future reference, there is no thought about it; I know I'm cute," Santana followed me to the car.

}{

"Go," Santana urged.

"Remind me why again," I mumbled, my lips a breath away from hers as I held her t-shirt.

"Because," she sighed, licking her lips, "That's what you do after a date. You go home, and geek about each other."

"But I can geek about you in here," I assured, pressing my lips to hers again. I loosened my grip on her shirt and slid my arms around her neck.

The hands on my hips clenched and relaxed over and over while I let my tongue run playfully over Santana's lips.

We'd been having this conversation for about fifteen minutes. Santana had made no headway in convincing me to leave. It just about grew futile when she tried for an innocent goodnight kiss. For at least ten of the last fifteen minutes were spent with my back to the door.

"Go," she tried again, pulling away with a moan as her lip slid between my teeth.

"Why?"

Finally, I was pressed fully to the door, Santana's head beside mine against the barrier and her lips brushing by my ear. "Because I have something I need to handle and unless you're going to participate I'm sad to inform you it's not a spectator sport."

I finally tensed at that, flushing as her lips met the tender skin just below my neck. "What do you mean?" I finally asked, tilting my head readily for her.

"Rachel," she moaned my name before sucking gently, "Are you really going to make me spell it out?"

I nodded wordlessly, "Tell me."

The hands at my hips began to wander, the left sliding up beneath my shirt but not above my stomach, "I need to work out." She pulled away entirely, the biggest grin on her face.

"Santana," I whined, following her to the small closet.

"Go to bed Rachel," she repeated for the umpteenth time, "Your dad's coming here soon. You don't think he'd find it a little odd that you sleep in my room every night?"

I made a face and shrugged, "We don't have to worry about that until next week."

"Humor me," she tried, hanging up her coat.

I didn't even try to fight the pout that overtook my features.

She kissed my forehead easily before moving to sit on the bed, "Just go, and I'll think about continuing our driving lessons."

My lips became a tight line for a moment. I held her eyes for a moment. "That's not fair."

"I never said it was. Go."

"Fine," I rolled my eyes, heading to the door.

"I really have ruined you," she chuckled.

"Goodnight to you too," I stuck my tongue out.

**A/N: The song used is Uptown Girl. My mind says glee but google says Billy Joel.**


End file.
